Captivity
by cion
Summary: A young girl, after encountering the master of an enchanted castle, becomes his prisoner and is coerced into helping him plan his escape. AU.
1. Lost

**I. Lost**

It was too loud outside.

All around me an excited, collective murmur resonated in the humid air as people squeezed past each other. The occasional woman's handbag hit me as the owner paid no attention to her surroundings, too deeply engaged in a rousing conversation with her friends. Little children zipped in zigzags and chaotic circles, dashing through the dusty streets. College kids burst out laughing nearby. A tiny girl wailed at the sight of her spilled ice cream. A troupe of traditional dancers, decked out in uniform **_kimono _**and simplistic hairstyles, spun and swayed to the beat of a thundering drum. Exuberant tourists flashed their cameras. Insects irritatingly buzzed in my ear, literally and figuratively speaking. One of them was Ino.

"...It's even better than last year! Damn, look at all this... Holy shit, did you see those hot college guys over there? Maybe we should go over there and talk to them! I think one of them looked at me! Sakura, he's looking at me! Sakura!"

My eyes, which had been calmly observing the festivities, now broke away from the passing people and caught the gaze of two sapphires rimmed with thick black lashes.

"Yeah, what?"

"What do you think? Should I say hi to them? They're smiling at me." Ino paused for a moment to glance back at them and give a sultry look. "Sakura," she drawled after a moment, immediately forgetting the boys' existence upon turning to me. It was almost funny how easily she could direct her attention from one thing to another. "You seriously need to lighten up. Last year you had no fun 'cause you kept thinking about that damn hospital of yours."

I frowned. "You know that I take my work seriously. And I'm tired. I wanna go home. Spare me the torture of walking around in this heat, Ino. Please."

"No!" the blonde huffed. "I got you all dolled up and let you borrow my **_yukata_**, all for what? So you could leave in the first half hour?" She crossed her arms.

Somehow, putting on makeup and wearing a cute dress only made me feel more exhausted than I already was.

"I never even asked to borrow it!"

"Shut the hell up, Forehead. You only have old granny clothes in your closet, anyway. God, and it took me forever to make up your face, especially that gigantic forehead of yours!"

"Hey, I resent that."

"Welllll... at least red looks good on you," she smiled sweetly. Ino, I could tell, was just happy that I had agreed to accompany her to the _**Obon Festival**_. After about a week's worth of begging, I had given in. She knew not to aggravate me further and consequently refrained from insulting me too much. For that, I was grateful. Despite her innumerable moments of candid boldness (which often got her in trouble), she was a keen girl—perhaps even so keen that she was manipulative. She usually got what she wanted when she wanted it. With a single glance she could detect one's true character, figure out which buttons to press to her advantage. It was almost as though she could read minds. I knew she could read mine easily, especially since I made no effort to hide my displeasure of being here.

As we strolled past a shop window, I scrutinized the glass and found a complete stranger staring back at me. There stood a girl, no older than seventeen, with stained lips, a powdered and spotless face, with perfectly sculpted hair. Pretty, yet alien. I almost couldn't recognize myself, for I had been forever convinced that I was nothing special, nothing to look at. It was amazing what a bit of color could do to improve a girl's appearance.

"Alright, we all know you're hot. You don't have to fall in love with yourself," Ino said smugly, proud of her handiwork.

"Says the girl who ditches class to put on makeup and stares in the mirror all day."

"Hey! I actually like to make myself look nice, unlike you."

We laughed and carried on, buying little trinkets and eating snacks and trying our luck at rather luckless games. Our feet shuffled aimlessly through the twists and turns of the festival grounds. After a while, the sun had begun to dip lower and lower in the sky. In the sun's place, lanterns cast over the town a warm glow while neon signs blinked in bright and jubilant rhythm. I'll admit. I had fun, even if that meant I had spent time with Ino. Although she could be an insufferable brat sometimes, she was without a doubt my best friend, someone who I felt like I had known forever.

"...and I was, like, all shouting and stuff because she majorly messed up my nails, right? Ugh, I swear, it was horrible. She even knocked the nail polish bottle and it spilled all over my hand! Ugh. And then..." The blonde took a brief moment to inhale and then opened her mouth to continue on. She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes lit up at something in the distance. "Shikamaru! Chouji!" she eagerly called out to the two approaching figures.

"Hey, Ino. Sakura," the two boys nodded at both of us. Shikamaru and Chouji were fellow classmates of ours. Shikamaru, with his spiky ponytail and dull voice, resembled an apathetic pineapple. The stout and ever-hungry Chouji reminded me of a gluttonous bear. The logic of how the fashionable and high-maintenance Ino ever became friends with these two completely escaped me.

"What are you guys doing here?" came Ino's unmistakably animated voice.

"Eh, Chouji wanted to eat at the stalls here. Troublesome," droned a bored Shikamaru. His thin eyes squinted in the darkness.

"I'm so hungry. I'm gonna go find that **_kalbi_** place..." Chouji mumbled as he slipped away into the crowd, unnoticed by Ino and Shikamaru, both of whom were engaged in light banter.

"Shikamaru! Let's go see the **_bon-odori_** dancers!"

"Ugh, I just came here, woman. I don't feel like walkin' all the way over there."

"For once in your lazy ass life, can you please just—"

"Can we sit down and watch clouds or something instead?"

"It's dark out! There _are_ no clouds, stupid!"

By this point, I knew that they would be fine on their own. As much as I _loved_ being the third-wheel, I decided I would pull a Chouji and escape while the sliver of opportunity remained. They wouldn't miss me.

I walked away from the festival, following a twisting dirt trail toward the parking lot. My skin was sticky and my feet hurt. Long-term fatigue from endless studying and sleepless nights had accumulated to the point where all I wanted was to get home and get lazy. A warm bath sounded nice. And maybe some ice cream while catching up on my latest novel...

In the darkness, my feet stumbled across dirt, rocks and uneven patches of grass. Instead of keeping track of where I was going, I had been caught up in pointless preoccupations that had temporarily robbed me of my sense of direction, which was already horrible to begin with. And here I was, lost.

I recalled a time when I had gotten lost in a large department store. By the time I had gotten home, my mother was absolutely livid. Since then, she had bought me a cell phone. Suddenly, a burst of elation rose within me as I realized that I could use the GPS application from my phone! Pulling out my phone, I tried to access the app but was disappointed to discover that my current location was devoid of cellular signal. To make matters worse, the battery was about to die.

Where the _hell_ was I?

Excellent. I was lost and I didn't even know if I was anywhere near home. But by the looks of it, strange foliage and tall trees were something I definitely did not see near my apartment complex. I was stuck in the middle of a godforsaken forest, alone, with no working phone. I couldn't even make heads or tails of which way was the path back to the festival. It was almost as if the trail had disappeared.

Somewhere behind me, I heard a rustle. Spinning around to the source of the noise, I could barely distinguish any details in the dim light. After rationalizing that it had been a squirrel, I began to walk away, phone in hand, as I tried to get some signal.

Again! There was another rustle. Dread coiled in my stomach. Slowly, I turned, but again I saw nothing. I took longer, more hurried strides, anxious to get away. _It's just a squirrel, Sakura._ Despite these dubious persuasions, I could not stop the little hairs on the back of my neck from rising. And I could not help but feel that I was under someone's watchful gaze.

Another rustle. This time, closer.

I began to break into a sprint. Rough branches slapped at my body. Cold beads of sweat rolled down my face. Behind me, I heard the rustles drawing closer and closer. Panicking (and knowing my luck), I didn't see the thick tree root before promptly tripping over it. I landed hard on my hands and knees and was about to stand back up until a cold hand grasped my shoulder. Strong, thin fingers squeezed, as if to break the bone and flesh.

Then the hand let go, and I knew then that I was alone once more.

Eventually, I gathered enough courage to stand again. When I took a tentative step forward, the toe of my sandal brushed against something with a hollow thump. I sharply drew back my foot, waiting for an animal to clamp its sharp teeth around my ankles. When nothing happened, I forced myself to lightly tap it again. Then I bent forward, felt along the dirt and fallen leaves, and touched a smooth object. I rose and brought it close to my face.

I recognized it as the lacquered handle of a non-folding fan, an **_uchiwa_**. It was smaller than most fans of its kind, and it fit in my purse. Perhaps it was odd to keep such an insignificant thing, but the simple normalcy of its appearance calmed me a little. It kept my mind off of the strange events that had occurred.

For a while I wandered aimlessly, occasionally fingering the smooth handle in my purse. My phone's battery had finally gone out. I had nothing with me that could serve as emergency supplies. I was tired, hungry, and growing more and more convinced that I would die by the morning. Just when I was about to give up and settle for resting on a bed of leaves (and risk getting mauled by huge, rabid animals), I parted a thick curtain of vines to discover a glorious sight.

Half hidden beneath the shroud of darkness and the looming trees was an old castle, its black shingled roof gleaming in moonlight. The rectangular stone body stretched deep into the surrounding forest. The structure, though partly dilapidated and seemingly abandoned, seemed to impose a majestic and solemn reverence from all who saw it. It was a _little_ creepy, but it was more welcoming to stay the night there rather than in unprotected wilderness. Without a moment's hesitation, I maneuvered through the tall stalks of weeds and grass with burning motivation. Finally, I could get some rest.

I approached the front entrance. The wide stone gates had been reduced to broken slabs of rock overrun by kudzu vines. Further in was a circular dirt courtyard, deathly barren in comparison. And beyond it stood a great door. There were neither knockers nor a knob. I tried pushing the door open, but it firmly remained in place.

A couple of yards away were square windows about fifteen feet above the ground, cut into and lining the castle walls. Flimsy wooden shutters covered them. Directly beneath one window was a shed of some sort. If it was stable enough, I could climb it, reach for the shutters, open them, and pull myself inside.

The endeavor turned out easier than expected. But after hoisting myself up and sliding in through the window, I had forgotten exactly how high I was and crashed onto the ground. I attempted moving but groaned when my limbs sharply protested in pain. If falling earlier in the forest had done any damage to my body, I was sure to have ruined something now. No broken bones, but I would definitely feel the full extent of my idiocy in the morning.

I rolled over, wrapping myself in layers of what felt like dust and cobwebs. But it didn't matter to me in the slightest. At least I was inside a building. Safe. Hopefully the place wasn't anyone's private property. Or worse, a museum. Vaguely, I wondered what would happen if a curator or a janitor came in the morning, only to find a strange girl sleeping in a storage shed or something. If that happened, I would apologize, explain my situation honestly, and ask to use a phone. And then I'd hitch a cab ride home and pray that my worrying mother wouldn't maim me and send me to a convent...

It only felt like a short while until I startled awake at the sound of something shuffling. Floorboards creaked behind me. And faintly, after straining my ears, I could hear steady breathing. And it wasn't mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary<strong>

**Obon Festival: **Traditionally, it was a venerable celebration to welcome the spirits of the dead, much like the purpose of Día de los Muertos. Over the course of some 500 years, it has transformed into a huge carnival-like event.

**kimono: **Japanese traditional dress

**yukata:** Japanese traditional summer dress

**kalbi:** Korean BBQ; AKA, Choji's fave food.

**bon-odori dancers:** Dancers who perform with folk music to welcome the spirits of the dead.

**uchiwa:** A non-folding fan, usually circular in shape. Recall the Uchiha crest.

By the way, the castle is not a stereotypical, Disney-enchanted castle. For example, the castle should resemble the Japanese medieval castle Matsue.


	2. Creature

**II. Creature**

A hand roughly pulled me to my feet. Hot breaths beat against my cheeks.

"What are you doing here?" I couldn't tell if the voice belonged to a man or an animal, but its tone was dangerous. Too afraid to respond, I merely cowered in fear. But the voice growled with impatience, and the hand tightened its grip. "Speak."

"I-I was lost and found this place," my voice quivered.

"Ah," he said, "you are a woman. State your business."

"I didn't know someone already lived here. I didn't mean to trespass!"

The hand flung me across the room with such force that it knocked the wind out of me. For a moment, I could concentrate on little else other than breathing properly, but my head was spinning, and my heart was palpitating wildly.

"Such petty excuses," he said smoothly. Were it not for his cruel words, I would have thought that his voice sounded quite beautiful—at least in a guttural, animal sort of way. "I should have you killed."

I gasped, choking on my own breathlessness. As I rose, my whole body sharply protested in pain. Everything hurt. My knees, which had suddenly gone weak, shook so violently that I had to stop myself from swaying and crashing back down to the floor. The darkness seemed to cave in from all directions, as if to swallow me whole. I couldn't see a thing. I might have been floating in space and I wouldn't have noticed the difference. The disembodied voice spoke again.

"Quiet, are we? It only makes your execution less personal."

"Wait!" I stammered, voice hitching in panic. My heart, it felt, had dropped from my chest and sunk down to my stomach. "I'll leave immediately! Please don't kill me!" Tears bubbled in the corners of my eyes.

"You weep?" the voice asked, bored. "How pitiful."

"Please! I'll give you whatever you want if you'll let me go."

"Humans are often desperate for the fulfillment of their wishes but fickle in upholding their vows. Men are liars. Women are no better."

A footstep sounded from across the room. My breaths all but stilled as I heard another footstep. The old floorboards groaned from the weight. Feeling around in the darkness, I recognized the general shape of my purse on the floor. I snatched it and tried to pull out anything that could serve as a weapon, as protection. But my hands settled on only scraps of paper, wood, and a pen. There was nothing, nothing at all that could save me now. I was going to die, I was going to die...

With unimaginable speed, a hard body slammed me against a wall, and it did not let go. A strong hand held my chin. "And you are merely one among billions of the same damned race."

Something fast rushed through my blood, like cold and creeping vines spreading their limbs across open land. What soon followed was only feeling and movement, but no thought. Suddenly, thinking wasn't necessary.

I gripped hard plastic. The cap fell away. My thumb ghosted over the exposed point. Sharp. I waited, hearing my heart beat once, then twice.

"Now die," said the voice, but I was faster.

I plunged the pen in hard flesh, moving away only when the body stumbled backward and released me. The harsh sound of a beast in pain echoed loudly, but I knew that the animal would soon recover from the distraction. Across the room a pale ray of moonlight came through the broken window from which I had come. It was high up, and escaping through it was near to impossible, but it was my only chance left. I ran toward it, ignoring the searing pains that shot up through my feet to my knees. Only a little further and...

Something grabbed me. With enough strength I shook it away, but the force of the sudden movement threw me off my feet. I landed on my side and immediately made to get up, only to fall back down again. What little I could see of the window and the shred of light seemed to diminish. Exhaustion and pain blended into one confused sensation, temporarily robbing me of consciousness. I could hardly see, could barely move. It was all over.

"Please," I begged once more as he came near. "You don't have to do this."

"I don't have to," he agreed, and I gasped when he stepped into the light. "But I can and will."

Before me stood a creature, whose face glowed beneath the moonlight. Violet lips curved into an unsettling smirk. A patch of black stood bold on the bridge of a defined nose. Gray skin, the color of shriveled corpse flesh, hid behind locks of long, navy hair. And peeking through them were narrowed red eyes.

"You thought this could save you?"

The creature reached over a broad shoulder, the muscles twitching. His gray fingers wrapped around the pen. With a sharp tug, it came loose. He brought his bloody hand forward, palm supine. Then he crushed the pen in his fist and let the fragments clatter to the floor.

"They ought to send a competent assassin next time. Dispatching such a weakling like you insults me."

I tried inching myself away from the creature but stopped when, in a blur of movement, he unsheathed a sword from a scabbard that hung at his hip. The long blade was all that stood between us now.

"Step into the light. May your death bring me much pleasure."

Feeling my eyes moisten, I reluctantly pulled closer to him.

_I'm going to die and no one will ever know. They'll never find my body._

I looked into the horrible eyes of the monster, expected him to derive morbid amusement from the life he would soon take. Yet what I saw surprised me. Shock flickered across his features, and his brows drew together in confusion.

"Sakura," came the whisper, but I knew I had heard it as clearly as I could hear my heart beat. I merely watched him, unsure of what to do. "Of the Kaminari clan, the Thunder Estate," he muttered. And then his gaze darkened. "You traitor."

I faltered at the accusation. "I don't know what—"

"Enough," he snarled, his face contorting in growing rage. "I should have suspected your true intentions from the beginning. Self-aggrandizement. Wealth. Power. You wanted nothing more than to have me wrapped around your finger, to watch me succumb to your false sentiments. And now look at what you've done to me, what I've become!"

I moved slowly backwards, careful not to make any sudden movements that might elicit a violent response from him. Not once did I remove my sight from the gray hand that clasped the sword.

The next few moments were an incomprehensible blur. Spurts of heat and ice spread throughout my body violently, like knives. I shut my eyes from the pain. Something was falling above me, cutting through the air in one swipe. I felt my hands move, warm and trembling. Then stillness. And just as quickly as the fiery sensation had possessed me, it departed.

Some sick delusion told me that, if I were to open my eyes, I would see the blade sticking out of my chest. But instead, the sword protruded from an object I clutched in my hands. It took a minute for me to realize that it was the uchiwa from the forest. I didn't know when I had whipped it out, but somehow it seemed to _hold_ the sword in place, the tip of which had stopped mere inches away from my face. The monster stared, looking just as appalled as I probably looked.

Darkness was fading fast now. Shadows retreated back to the isolated corners of the room. From the ceiling hung old cobwebs, like delicate tapestries. The wooden floors were covered with a thin film of dust, disturbed only by the pair of footprints made during the little skirmish. By now, I could more clearly observe the owner of the castle as the first signs of dawn rose.

He was much taller than I had first perceived—he was heads taller. His mop of hair was so disheveled, it appeared as though it had been hacked by hedge clippers. He sported an unfastened shirt and baggy pants, both of which hung slack on his body. Wrapped around his hips was a sort of drape, held secure by chords of thick rope. And sprouting from his back were two wings, riddled with veins as thick as human limbs.

His eyes met mine. I looked away, afraid. What exactly was he?

"I will ask you this once," he said, closing the small proximity between us even as I tried shuffling away. "Where did you find this?" He plucked the fan from my hands and held it before me.

For the first time since finding it in the forest, I really examined it. I saw that the body featured two concentric circles, one red and the other white. The fine, tight-knit fibers of the paper indicated its high quality as well as the precision with which it was crafted. The smooth wooden handle was coated with a layer of varnish, and embedded within the wood was a little blue stone.

"Well?"

"The forest," I responded, shaking beneath his dark gaze.

"Have you any idea of how I punish thieves and traitors?" he asked, bringing a cold hand to my face. "I used to be quite merciful. I used to throw them in prison and leave them at the hands of their crooked inmates and guards. I hardly ever dealt with them myself."

His hand lowered to my throat, where it softly scraped the skin with sharp claws. He kept his eyes on me, daring me to look away. But I couldn't.

"But pests like you irritate me. I could kill you with this hand in numerous ways, ways that you can't even begin to fathom."

I felt his hand drop, ghost over my chest, and slide past my hip. His eyes followed the movement.

"Or I could kill whatever shred of dignity you possess as a woman." He brought his lips to my ear. "And all you would feel is pain."

"No," I whimpered, my eyes wet and warm. "Please, stop. I'll do whatever you want. Just... please don't..."

"Then do as I say," he said, pulling away. "Whatever I command of you, you will obey. You will earn your freedom by helping me to remove the barrier that binds me to this rotting place. Do you understand?"

Though ignorant of what he meant, I nodded my head in desperation. "But," I said weakly, struggling to keep my voice steady, "if I can't?"

His answer was simple: "Then you will be my prisoner."

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> Sasuke-boy here looks exactly like his Shippuden curse-mark form. Please leave a review! Concrits are always welcome. Please don't flame me. I bruise easily. Like a peach.**_  
><em>**


	3. Images

**III. Images**

Warm tears stung my eyes. With all the strength I had, I tried to muffle the sobs that threatened to come. Had I not already been on the floor, I was sure to have fallen into a crumpled heap. The monster, however, was unmoved by the scene and demanded that I rise. I quickly stood but kept my eyes to the floor. He was watching me. I could sense it.

"Come," he said, and I followed behind him, wincing when we passed through a wooden door. I had not noticed it before. Had I seen it earlier, I might have escaped from the monster and into the surrounding forest. It had been stupidity and fear that had driven me to act so blindly. And I was paying for it now.

We entered a narrow main hall, all cold wood and stone. The few windows that lined the barren walls were no more than small squares. Save for the spare light that managed to pass through the windows, the castle appeared dark and empty. Above us the ceiling hung low, long planks of wood blackened and drooping from age. Dust covered every surface, shifting and flying about in little clouds as we passed by. Identical hallways cut left and right of us, twisting deep into the shadowy recesses of the castle. At our distance, only a staircase could be clearly seen at the far end of the passage.

Somehow the monster sensed my curiosity and addressed it promptly. "Do not approach it."

"But—"

"Don't make me repeat myself," he said, turning on his heel. I immediately averted my gaze back down to the floor, avoiding those horrible eyes that seemed to cut straight through me. Although he hadn't raised his voice, the quiet anger beneath it unnerved me.

Out of my peripherals I noticed a blur of black disappear and reappear within seconds. Before I could react, a clump of purple and white fabric shot forth toward me, and I caught them easily. Looking up, I found the monster watching me, expression blank.

"Clothes," he answered my unspoken question. Then he pointed behind me. "Go out that door. Follow the path through the woods to the pond. Finish your business and return in fifteen minutes."

I stared at him, amazed. Clearly, he was not even a little concerned that I might take the opportunity to escape. Did he assume that I would not survive alone out there? Perhaps the forest posed more of a danger than I had assessed. Whatever I had encountered last night, be it man or animal, had escaped my mind the moment I had broken into the castle. But remembering the feeling of being watched and followed was enough to send a cold tremor down my spine. As much as I wished it untrue, I grew more convinced that the monster's reasoning was right. I would be a fool to escape. I would get myself killed if I disobeyed him and fled further than what he allowed. As long as I did as he asked, I could hope to see another day.

I glanced at the clothes in my hands only for a moment, then looked up to find that the monster had disappeared. Behind me, the door was left open.

* * *

><p>The dirt path, true to the monster's words, led me directly to a pool of still waters. Tall trees encircled the vicinity in clusters so dense that light could barely penetrate the canopies. Directly above the pond, however, was open air and the dusty, orange sky. The sun had barely risen, yet the cicadas seemed to have begun chirping in blissful chorus at the first sign of light. If I had to guess, it was around five in the morning.<p>

I knelt by the water, unfolding and laying the clothes beside me. The monster had provided a towel and a purple yukata. At first glance, the dress might have appeared to be unisex clothing. But judging by the subtle curves of the waistline and bust, the dress had been fitted for a woman. There was no doubt about it. But why would that creature have something like this? Pushing these thoughts away, I quickly untied my hair, undressed, and sank into the water. It felt nice against my skin.

As I bathed, a drop of rain slid down my face. After peering up at the sky and finding no clouds, I realized that I was crying: crying for myself, for the people I loved who I'd never see again. I could try to persuade the monster that I would help him, but I could not fool myself. I did not know what he wanted. I did not know how to provide it. My agreement to the arrangement had been one of desperation. Sooner or later, the monster would realize that I was useless to him and his goals. His patience would wane and he would surely kill me.

_Humans are often desperate for the fulfillment of their wishes but fickle in upholding their vows._

How true it was...

With these dark thoughts came a new one, and I brought my hands before me. Could these hands of mine end my own life? Could I hold my neck and plunge myself deep into the water and die? Or break off a tree limb and cut my throat open? I did not want to return to the castle and serve the monster that would subject me to labor and torture. Why go through with the suffering when I could end it all now? Death. It was so easy...

But I lacked the courage to do it. I was a coward. How could I summon the will to kill myself if I flinched at little paper cuts and bruises? And if I should fail at the attempt and return to the castle, the monster would likely punish me for my act of defiance.

I tread through the water, dried myself, slipped into the yukata, and secured the **_obi_**. Emotionally, I wasn't sure how I felt—spent, maybe. Pondering death was no light task, and it had drained me just as thoroughly as I had drained my tears.

Just as I headed to leave, something bizarre occurred. Images flashed in front of my eyes, replacing one another in rapid succession. Amid the chaos, I could make out general shapes and silhouettes. There were lights, blinking and glaring so brightly my head began to throb. Then, I was plunged into complete darkness. I could not hear or see, but I could feel something covering me, suffocating me. My body had gone paralyzed. I struggled against it, feeling as though I was submerged in an endless, black ocean. Two strong currents captured me, one pushing me down deeper into the sea, the other pulling me up. There was the final tug, and with a burst of energy I broke through the surface. The darkness was lifted and my vision returned. My body could move on its own.

I clutched my head as I looked at the pond in terror. I had almost drowned, not in the water but on land. How, I didn't know. But I would always remember the feeling of it—the feeling of having won a battle against death within myself.

* * *

><p>The monster was fuming when I returned.<p>

"I said fifteen, and it took you twice that."

He analyzed my entire length, from my wet hair to my sandal-clad feet. His obsidian eyes traveled back up, resting on my face. He frowned.

"I address you, yet you dare keep your silence?"

Keeping it seemed wise. Recounting the events at the pond would only provoke him to brand me half delusional. There was no way he would believe me. Or rather, he wouldn't care to hear anything I had to say. So I kept my eyes to the floor, head bowed.

"Whose terms do you follow?"

"Yours," I whispered.

"Will this happen again?" He brushed his hand along my shoulder, scraping the skin with his pointed claws.

_Don't touch me, don't touch me._ "No."

"Good." Then he drew his hand away and waved it at me, as is to shoo me away like an annoying fly. "Find something to eat. Regain your strength so that you may begin your end of the deal." He began to walk away.

"Where do I—?"

"What?"

The impatience laced in his voice raised warning signs in my head.

"Um." I swallowed. "Where is the kitchen?"

"There is none."

"Then...?"

"Catch a rat. They're teeming all over this accursed place," he deadpanned.

Was he serious? I had to kill and eat... The thought made my stomach turn.

When I did not reply, he snorted an irritated "How gullible." Motioning that I follow him, he promptly swiveled on his feet and led me through the castle. We stopped at a small door.

"Eat what you manage to scrounge."

Before I could reply, he flung open the door and roughly pushed me through. Arms flailing to catch my balance, I stepped into a patch of tall grasses. Only when I fully observed my surroundings did I realize that this was a garden... or what was left of it anyway. It was just as overrun and ugly as the main entrance, with its giant bamboo shoots that hid most of the stone pathway from view. There were a few trees scattered in every direction, their leaves drooping from the weight of their heavy fruit. A little red bridge arched over a tiny, murky pond. How could a traditional garden, the epitome of simplistic beauty, propagate into such a jungle?

"Don't just stand there," the monster said behind me.

At his words I began to maneuver my way through the growth, taking care not to step into prickly weeds and mud. Stopping in front of a bulging bush with orange fruit, I recognized that the large plant was a low-growing citrus tree. I plucked a few from the branches and proceeded down the path, checking for worm holes and bruises. Surprisingly, there were quite a few fruit trees bearing persimmons and apples and lemons. The sheer quantity made it impossible for me to collect any more.

After a while, the monster, who hadn't bothered to help at all, grew impatient. "That is enough."

He gestured to follow him again. As we made our way toward the back entrance, the gleam of a white object lodged in a bush caught my eye. It was shining beneath the glare of the morning sun, but at my distance I couldn't tell what it was. Little branches and thorns had coiled around it, and lobed leaves mostly covered the remaining spaces. I approached it, managed to free one hand from my pile of fruit, and reached toward the white protrusion. It gave way with a small tug, snapping like a twig, and rattled as it landed on the ground. At the sight, I gave a small cry and dropped the pile of fruit from my arms.

At the base of the bush lay a white hand, one finger broken and the others curled at their individual segments.

The monster had stopped to watch, offering only a small smirk of amusement. Then slowly, he made his way to the castle, slipping through the entrance like a shadow.

I fell to my hands and knees. The summer heat beat mercilessly upon my body; I could feel sweat dribbling down my cheeks, even though my skin felt colder than ever before.

That _feeling_ was coming again, but much more violently than from back at the pond. White lights danced behind my eyes. My ears rang. A growing pressure accumulated in my temples. What had felt like currents pushing and pulling my body now felt like enormous waves lurching in the pit of my stomach and rising to my throat. I coughed once, twice. My entrails twisted sharply.

Then I retched.

* * *

><p>When I returned, the monster was nowhere to be found. Rather relieved, I sunk to the floor and leaned against a wooden beam. My hands were shaking uncontrollably; I set them in my lap. It was only day one, but already I found myself dreading the uncertain remainder of my days.<p>

The hallucinations at the pond: Were they harbingers of premature delirium? What else could explain those flashes of lights and that horrible moment of blindness? And what else could explain the existence of an old castle in the heart of a forest? Or its vile, demonic master who enjoyed toying with his prisoners and scattering their mutilated remains in his garden? Had he only offered me a false proposition of freedom to torture me and eventually to kill me? Would he then leave my bones in the garden to be picked by the birds?

How much of this strange world was a lie? Or an elaborate dream? All I was sure of was my own being, but even **_Descartes'_** existential mantra offered little comfort. I didn't know how much "thinking" I was capable of—especially within sane mental parameters. Therefore, how could the conclusion "I am" apply to me? The more I thought, the less I understood. In light of the occurrences here at the castle, memories of the Obon Festival with Ino felt so foreign and old. As I observed the black wood and stone surrounding me, my heart sank further. In all likelihood, I would never see her or my family ever again.

My eyes landed on the staircase across the hall. The monster had forbidden me from nearing it. Why? What did he have to hide so desperately from me? Was he afraid that I would find out?

Slowly, I pulled myself to my feet and approached the stairs, ignoring the dull pain in my stomach. Given that there was no railing, I ascended the stairs cautiously. I would stop every time a particularly old step groaned beneath my weight, and I would glance over my shoulder to look for _him_. But he was never there. With just a bit more courage, I would reach the end and discover his terrible secret. Perhaps there was a hidden passage that led to a vault containing treasure, or some mythical object, or maybe even dead bodies. Or maybe he kept hostage a whole host of prisoners like me...!

A small tremor reverberated beneath my feet, and a spot of black flashed nearby.

Startled, I misplaced my footing, slipped, and fell off the side of the stairs. A white vision of panic seized me, drawing my mind to a blank. I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the crash that would follow...

I landed into something. Hard. But somehow, it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. It was only when I opened my eyes that I processed three amazing truths: One, I was still alive; two, I was in the monster's arms; and three, he had saved me.

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary<strong>

**obi**: a sash to tie around kimono

**Descartes:** He was a French philosopher most famous for his saying "I think, therefore I am." Basically, it means "No matter how much I doubt the natural world and even my own physical being, if I can think I must be alive." Sakura, however, questions reality so much that she doubts even Descartes' logic. Yep.


	4. Name

**IV. Name**

The monster was angry, jaw set hard and eyes narrowed. In one swift movement, he released me from his arms, which was more or less simply dropping me to the floor.

"I told you to stay away."

I bit my lip, hoping that by doing so it would stop the trembling.

"I'm sorry."

"You're no good to me dead." He nodded at something behind me. Turning over my shoulder, I saw that the staircase from which I had fallen had broken and caved in. The final steps had disintegrated from age. There was a large crevice near the top, sizable enough for a person to fall through.

It had never been his intention to hide anything from me. He had known all along that the castle was in horrible condition, to the extent that it was dangerous to live in. He had warned me to stay away as a safety precaution. Suddenly, I felt ashamed, like a guilty child before a parent.

"I didn't know," I whispered.

"Of course you didn't," he scoffed. I winced at his caustic tone. "You seem to have trouble listening to people."

He was referring to the pond incident, when I had failed to return on time. How much further could I prod him before he snapped? It hadn't been my wish to disobey him so blatantly. It hadn't been my fault! Still, it would be a wasted endeavor to explain it to him when I hardly knew how to explain it to myself.

I recoiled from him when he quickly lowered his hand, as if to strike me. But he did not move to finish the blow. Instead, he looked away and muttered, "Don't be rude. I am trying to help you up."

I searched his eyes, wanting to see any indication of dishonesty, but he kept his gaze elsewhere. Was he...embarrassed? I slowly took his extended hand, inwardly reveling at how his long fingers seemed to cover mine entirely. If he wanted, he could easily run his claw across my neck and be rid of me. Realizing this made me feel even tinier, weaker. As soon as he pulled me up, he snatched his hand away, as if burned.

"Are you ready?"

"What?"

Without a word, he led me again to the garden, where I took great pains to avoid glancing at the pile of gleaming, white bones. For how many years had it been there for the skin and muscle to rot?

"Training will begin," said the monster. We were standing in the middle of the yard. "Do you understand what chakra is?"

I did not.

He shook his head at my silence, irked. "Chakra comprises of a mixture of spiritual and physical energy. The combined product can be used to perform an array of special techniques. I will teach you the basics needed to destroy the castle seals."

"Seals?"

"When the time comes, you will find and destroy them. I cannot do so myself because the seals serve as a barrier; they are what keep me bound to this place. That is why you must learn how to channel chakra."

"But what if I don't have any chakra?"

"_Every_ living creature possesses chakra," he said. "You would be dead without it."

"Oh," I responded dumbly. After evaluating his words, I felt obliged to ask another question: "But, how do I exactly _draw_ upon it?"

"It takes time. Physical energy directly correlates to physical stamina. As for spiritual energy, one can augment it through meditation."

Physical stamina and meditation? It sounded like a simple formula for maintaining one's general health. Exercise kept the body healthy and strong. Occasional introspection kept the mind clear and honest. Of course, other factors were just as important, such as optimism and social relationships and diet. But I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the idea of chakra, something that sounded intangible and unreal. What was it exactly? And what had he meant by special techniques?

My thoughts were disrupted when I blinked and found the monster gone.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and flinched.

"Your chakra fluctuated just now. It seems that you are largely driven by your emotions. It is advisable to control them. Your emotions should not control you."

I frowned and backed away, creating a sizable distance between us. How did he expect me to remain calm in his presence? And flinching out of surprise was not something I could consciously control. It was a _reflex, _for crying out loud. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I became. Why was he even teaching me this in the first place?

"Pay attention to what I am doing."

Promptly, the blue glow I had seen earlier seeped out of his hands. The luminescence flowed between his fingers, gently, steadily, like a current. I watched it, fascinated. It was then that I realized that chakra was not a mere concept to be understood. It was very much a real and physical substance. It even looked as though it were alive, the way it came to cover him whole and swirl about his body. And the fire was so bright that it appeared painful, like it was burning him. But his face bore no indication of discomfort.

Then, just as quickly as it had come, the fire dissipated.

"That was chakra. Now you try," he instructed. "Press your hands together. Concentrate."

I did as he said and willed that, by some miracle, chakra would pour out of my hands. I tried closing my eyes, breathing deeply, and firmly planting my feet on the ground. Cracking an eye open, I was disappointed to see no progress, but I couldn't say that I was surprised. I wiped by my brow with my sleeve. Why was it so hot all of a sudden?

"You are not concentrating. Your chakra is quivering too much. Focus it to one focal point."

Again and again, I tried to envision chakra rushing through my body and flowing into my hands. Twice I felt an odd warmth pulse in my fingertips, but the feeling passed all too quickly for me to discern what it was. Was it chakra? Or blood? Or had I completely imagined it in my desperation to do something on which my life depended? But I would have to try no matter how long it would take. Failing was not an option.

The warmth pulsed again, this time spreading through my fingers and palms. I could feel some inscrutable mass of power, just waiting to burst through flesh and bone. Yet simultaneously, something was holding it back, pushing and pressing with cold, violent resistance. I knew that I had closed my eyes before, but I was filled with terror as darkness threatened to consume me, just as it had at the pond. It was holding me down with its full weight, strangling me and crushing me until I could barely breathe, barely think. My head was spinning.

I only remembered briefly that the monster was still near when I heard him mumble something. But all I could process were sounds, not words.

Then I felt it. A touch on my shoulder, gentle.

The darkness was still fighting, but it began to retreat as warmth enveloped me. I gave in to it.

* * *

><p><em>Stillness hung in the air. No birds sang in the forest canopy. The silent wind only indicated its passing presence with its chilled breath.<em>

_But finally, a streak of black flew past a row of trees. A rain of objects cut through the air, their metal edges glinting as they caught shreds of light._

_I pushed off the balls of my feet and narrowly dodged them. Behind me, the knives had sunk into the trees in a clean, straight line. Up ahead, someone stood in a clearing, watching. The shadows of the forest hid him well. Any unsuspecting eye would have glanced past him, mistaking him for a part of the dark wilderness. He drew nearer, one slow step at a time._

_"Don't be afraid," _he said, reaching forward to place a hand on my face. I leaned into that touch. And then the hand traveled lower, grasping and searching._  
><em>

I awoke with a start, panting. As I sat up, a wet cloth slid from my face and fell onto my lap. There was a shallow dish of water beside me, as well as three small rolls of towels. Layers of blankets slid past my shoulders and billowed out before me like a dress train. Save for the faint chitter of birds from outside, it was quiet. I felt so at peace, and I confused my sense of comfort for home. It took only a moment to realize that I was not home but trapped in an empty, strange room. I was in the castle. The day's events came rushing back. I remembered training in the garden. I remembered the feeling of cold, heavy darkness pressing down on me and how, above anything else, I had struggled to survive its effects. I had pushed and pulled and scrambled to separate my thoughts from the moment of terror. It had felt almost like a clammy hand clawing its way through my mind and crushing me. It didn't belong there, whatever it was. The thought of the sensation recurring put me at unease.

My thoughts progressed to the sight of sharp silver, the sound of perfect silence, and the feeling of a warm hand touching my cheek and slipping away. The word "sasuke" had been on my lips when I had startled awake. I didn't know what it meant, or when I had heard it before, but saying it felt natural and comfortable. The delicate sound of it sliding through my teeth and tongue brought a shiver that coursed through my being.

Suddenly feeling a little too warm, I removed the blankets. I had shed all three but I still felt hot. The room was not especially stuffy, and the soft light pouring in through the window was not yet bright. What was wrong with me?

A loud creak sounded behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find the monster at the doorway. His brows were furrowed.

"You know my name."


	5. Sasuke

**V. Sasuke**

"How do you know my name?" he hissed, eyes searching.

What was he talking about? All this time I had referred to him as monster. It never even crossed my mind that he could _have_ a name. _Unless..._ The word had begun to form on my lips again, the word that felt all at once so remotely familiar and strange. Was _Sasuke_ the monster's name? But how could that be? It was too much of a coincidence, and the notion that this vile thing had been given a name was ridiculous, laughable even. I remained silent, uncertain of how to respond. His piercing red eyes watched me intently.

Perhaps he understood from my silence that I genuinely didn't know. Or perhaps he knew that to prod further for information would raise suspicion. Whatever the case was, he huffed in defeat and let the matter go. I was grateful for it, too. I didn't like the way he stared at me, as if to analyze my every movement.

He came near and dropped to his haunches next to me. He brought a hand to my face, cupping it none too gently, and squeezing a little more tightly every time I tried backing away. He wanted me to sit still. I could feel it in his touch and see it in his narrowed eyes. As he held the back of his hand to my brow, I watched his stern expression soften into a thoughtful one. Seeing the transformation was an amazing thing. The tight line of his mouth parted. His jaw, usually set rigid, became relaxed. It seemed as though he had released himself from some kind of personal inhibition, and I was seeing him for the first time. Or was I? I broke free from my thoughts when I felt him lower his hand to my chin. I stiffened when I felt his thumb brush across my lips. He dropped his hand after a moment.

"Your fever has subsided significantly."

Fever?

I must have looked confused, because he addressed my concern immediately: "You fainted. You were ill."

_That _explained my hazy memory.

"Oh," I said dumbly. "How long was I out?"

"Out?" he asked quizzically. "Out where?"

I almost laughed. Was he joking? "How long was I _knocked out_?"

Clear confusion was etched on his face as a dark eyebrow arched upwards. I paused, amazed. Until now I had never taken full notice that he spoke oddly, archaically. I wondered if this was all just a guise, a show of pretense, but he appeared genuinely baffled by my colloquialism.

"How long was I _unconscious_?" I elucidated.

Finally, a look of comprehension dawned on his face. "Two days."

"_Two days?_" I shrieked. I had _not_ expected that response.

His tightly pressed lips reflected his irritation at my outburst, but otherwise he was unperturbed. "You were severely low in chakra and strength. It is little wonder why your performance was so disappointing. In my haste, I had assumed you were ready and pushed things too quickly."

I nodded but kept quiet. It wasn't like he was apologizing anyway, given the scornful edge to his voice. My gaze fell onto the towel in my lap and the dish beside me. "I, ah, must thank your servant for helping me recover."

Silence passed between us, growing more pronounced and more horribly awkward with every second. The monster frowned. Had I said something wrong?

"I have no servant," he said finally, eyes locking with mine.

It was then that the truth of the situation dawned on me. We were truly all alone in the castle. And for two days he had nursed me back to health. And here I was, as alive and well as I could ever be. I recalled his informing me that without chakra, an organism could not survive. If, after I had fainted, he saw that I was so dangerously close to death, then why hadn't he simply let me die? Why go through all the trouble of helping a weak little prisoner? Stepping in to catch me before I had fallen nearly to my death was one thing, taking care of me with no guarantee of my survival and/or use was another. So why had he done it?

Uncomfortable with the subject, I quickly shifted gears and hoped that he would not mind. I figured all he wanted was to get down to business anyhow.

"Are we resuming training?"

To my surprise, he shook his head, his ebony locks swaying from the movement. "Your chakra is too depleted to be of any use right now. Using it now would be counterproductive. You must allow it to be restored and regain your strength. For the time being, you will sweep the castle."

I gaped at him. "I thought you said I should regain my strength?"

"Quit your whining. Cleaning requires little to no chakra. And for a talentless woman like you, cleaning should be considered an intrinsic skill."

The _nerve_ of him! "This wasn't part of the deal," I countered.

His eyes flashed bright red. "You are my prisoner and you _will_ do as I say. I have shown you mercy, yet as payment you have done nothing. Must I remind you of what _could_ be your fate at this very moment?" His hand hovered above the hilt of his sword.

I fell silent.

"Now that we understand each other, get to work." As an afterthought, he said, "You may visit the pond to draw water. But venturing any further is prohibited. I will be watching you."

He vanished in the blink of an eye.

With a begrudging heart, I gave in and set to work. I found my soiled, red yukata, the one Ino had lent me. Inspecting it once, I knew the dress was beyond repair. It would do for a cleaning rag.

Upon careful examination, I realized that one side of the room was not a wall but a large closet. The brass handles rattled as I pulled on them, and the door gave way with a groan as a cloud of dust exploded. Inside, I found a bucket with which I could gather water to clean. Beside it were a number of curious items: a broken comb carved from pearly-white alabaster, a pair of wooden **_geta_**, a silk parasol, a roll of what appeared to be gauze, two floral **_kanzashi_** hair ornaments, and a pile of folded yukata, identical to the demon had given me.

They hadn't been touched for years, as the coat of dust indicated. For some reason, I didn't feel as though I had the right to touch these things. But suspicion swelled within me once again and I found myself questioning the strangeness of it all. Why did _he_ even have these things, paraphernalia which strongly hinted of a female owner? Thoughts aside, I walked through the main hall to find the back door. Pushing it open, I followed the path to the little pond. I hadn't forgotten what had happened two days ago, but the memory of it seemed to have erased itself from my mind.

I knelt in front of the pond with the bucket. The sunlight shined above me, and I saw my reflection on the clear surface of the pond. I still had my green eyes, my pink hair, and my light complexion. And of course, I still had my large forehead. I was still _me_. But despite those unchanging qualities, the most prominent feature was a weariness that had, at some time, settled on my face.

It took a sturdy effort to heave the bucket out without having the water slosh all over me. I set the bucket down, feeling a trickle of sweat run down from the corner of my brow. As I moved to wipe my face, something shot past and sharply lodged itself into a tree trunk a good distance away. Spinning around, my tresses spinning with me, I analyzed the surrounding area for an attacker. I saw nothing.

Slowly, I crept forward toward the trees, leaving all prudence behind with the bucket. I stopped when I saw that the object, a long, thin needle, began to tremble within the body of a tree. The needle's movements grew more violent as it jerked from side to side in an effort to yank itself out of the trunk. Then it finally freed itself from the trunk and...levitated in the air.

Without a moment to spare, the needle began to drag itself across the planes of the hard wood, scratching furiously and tearing at the bark. It was writing.

It etched out its first inscription: _**tasu**_

It began to work on the second: _**ke**_

And the last: _**te.**_

At the completion of its message, the needle froze in place and then dropped to the ground, lifeless. The individual characters on the bark were meaningless, but unified they formed: _**Help.**_

Only people could write. Only a human could write. Only a person, alive and well and visibly present, could grip a utensil to scratch out an urgent message on a tree. But all of those truths had been negated in front of my eyes. Both the message, freshly inscribed in the wood, and the needle, lying still between a mossy rock and a fallen tree limb, were still there in plain sight. I stepped forth to rummage on the ground for the needle. I ran my fingers over the tree's torn surface, as if to prove to myself that it did exist.

I had to leave.

Needle and bucket in hand, I prepared to return to the castle. But before leaving the forest, I spotted another peculiar sight close by on the trunk of another tree. A carved circle encompassed the phrase:

**_"inazuma no sasuke  
>to kaminari no sakura"<em>**

* * *

><p>He was waiting for me when I got back. "You seem to deliberately abuse the permission I give you."<p>

I deliberately diverted eye contact as I mulled over the recent events. But I replied to avoid rousing suspicion: "It was difficult carrying this."

"Hn," he replied, a trace of amusement evident in his tone. "Perhaps after you finish cleaning a sufficient portion of the castle, I will feed you. You look more pitiful than a starved waif."

A corner of my lip twitched, ready to throw a sarcastic barb his way. I refrained, simply lacking the strength to argue and risk angering him. This place was haunted. Haunted! Ghosts had written those messages on the trees. By why? What did they mean? What did they _want_? Had showing me those two names been a part of their cry for help or...a warning?

"What is that?"

I finally met looked at the monster to find him staring at the glinting needle I had stuck in my sleeve. Only his amazing speed could account for his ability to quickly grab hold of my arm, remove the needle, and drop my limb, all in less than a second.

It grew hard to swallow and breathe. The sight of his claws holding the thin, glinting needle terrified me. Had _Inazuma no Sasuke_ and _Kaminari no Sakura_ been the names of the monster's past victims? The white, skeletal hand in the garden might have belonged to one of them. It might have been them who had given me a vision of the man called Sasuke. And if I remembered correctly, Kaminari Sakura was a woman who the monster had hated (and whom he had hatefully mistaken me for). It provided a motive for him to murder her. Perhaps Sasuke was the girl's lover, or brother, or a friend. Or maybe even just a random passerby at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Those two could be here, watching me, warning me in vain to escape even as they saw and knew that I could not. How much longer did I have before I would be joining them? The sound of the monster's cold voice turned my insides into ice.

"Where did you find this?"

He had caught me. I didn't even need to reply for him to know the answer.

"Did I not forbid you to venture beyond the specified premises?"

"Yes," I answered weakly.

"Then why do you deliberately disobey me? It seems to me that you are trying your best to get yourself killed."

I winced at the double meaning of his words. Though afraid, I had to do it. I had to ask and find out who those people were. The monster already knew that I had seen more than what was permitted. If I was to die tonight for my disobedience, then it would just be the end of a cruel, indefinite life of suffering.

"Sasuke of lightning and Sakura of thunder."

The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could register them. As soon as I had finished, his lips twisted into a fierce scowl.

"That woman's name is forbidden here. Do you understand?" he growled. "Hn. You two look so disgustingly similar that I can't bear to be around you for long."

I couldn't stop there. I had to know. "Then Inazuma no Sasuke is—"

But the monster stopped me before I could finish.

"I am he. Uchiha Sasuke of the Lightning Estate, crown prince of the Fire Country."

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> Sasuke won't be up-to-date with a lot of colloquialisms such as "knocked out." He is royalty. And he sticks to his identity pretty stubbornly.

**Glossary**

**geta:** hard, flat-soled wooden shoes; very traditional, very Japanese, resembles sandals. Probably because they _are_, just ancient versions of the modern flip-flop!

**kanzashi:** decorative hair ornaments worn usually by geisha, but can also be worn by any woman who wants to look festive

**tasukete:** "Help!"


	6. Distortion

**VI. Distortion**

There had been something regal about him, perhaps in the way he held himself, like royalty would. Some of his more obvious physical qualities—his shining red and black eyes, smirking purple lips, and sharp claws—lent little credibility to his claims, yet somehow, I found myself believing them anyway. Words were unnecessary. After the revelation he seemed to have understood my silence and, satisfied, exited the room, leaving me to my work and thoughts. Eying the heavy bucket and red rags, I got on all fours and set to work.

I couldn't shake the feeling that something not of this world was at work. And it was restless. I felt it watching me as I worked and tried very hard to seem ignorant of its presence. My neck and scalp seemed to prickle over with ice. I was aware of my fingers twitching while I scrubbed tatami mats and furniture. When dust and old cobwebs lifted and tickled my face, I was certain that it had been the touch of a ghost. After a while the repetitive motions of washing and scrubbing began to take a toll on me, and I succumbed to exhaustion for a moment of repose. I sat in a corner and shut my eyes.

The action was a pointless one. Closing my eyes filled my physical body with darkness, but I could still recall the recent past. I could still see the events in my head, culminating in one confused vision of terror and hopelessness. If I concentrated enough, I could summon different memories, better memories of older days before I had encountered this world. I remembered little things that would lead to me to others. Most of them involved myself and my interactions with people, but their faces were blurry. I saw myself walking beside Ino at the Obon Festival, but that was the absolute extent of my memories. Any further probing failed to evoke anything other than needles and cold, black eyes and written pleas for help.

I opened my eyes when I felt something brush against my arm. Alarmed, I surveyed the room but soon realized it had just been my long hair. It would only serve as a nuisance when I would resume work. I glanced at the closet nearby. Pulling open the doors, I rummaged for the little alabaster comb. I pushed back my long bangs, swept them behind an ear, and secured the section with the comb.

My vision blurred. Before the tears could fall, I dabbed my eyes dry. Why was I crying, and what good would it do? I still had work to do, and if I didn't do a good job by the time _he_ came back, I knew that there would be hell to pay.

* * *

><p>"Hard at work, I see."<p>

I quickly rose, embarrassed. I had become so absorbed in my work that I hadn't even heard him come in. But I was thoroughly pleased with the results of my labor: clean surfaces and no more dust. I would never sneeze or cough in this damned castle ever again.

"What is that in your hair?"

Curiously, my hand flew to my hair and felt the smooth contours of the comb. Shit. Was he angry that I had taken it? I could almost feel his long, thin digits wrapping around my neck, squeezing the life out of me for whatever sin I had committed. We spoke all at once.

"It suits you."

"I'm sorry, I—"

_Wait._ _Huh?_

Had he just... Did he really do what I thought he did? Was he actually being _nice_? I felt my face grow hot. His expression remained placid. If he noticed my shock, he didn't mention it._  
><em>

"You may take momentary leave of your post," he said, taking a moment to observe the surroundings. He gave a nod of approval before turning towards the door and motioning that I come as well. "Follow me."

We stopped at the entrance to the garden.

"Now you see here, the broken gates surrounding the castle have welcomed in small game." He paused to observe the scenery, but I saw nothing out of the ordinary. "You must catch one."

"Why?"

He answered by pushing me past the doorway and into the overgrown vegetation, not caring whether I tripped or not. After stumbling around the tall, dewy growth and scanning my surroundings to no avail, I spun around, frustrated. There wasn't an animal in sight.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Be quiet and listen."

"To what?"

No reply followed. He merely stood by the doorway, his black eyes drifting to the side in a stubborn effort to ignore me.

And then I heard it. Soft _thumps_ coming from a nearby bush. A little cotton-ball tail peeked out of the leaves, twitching. As I stalked closer, I was alarmed to see a faint, blue light surrounding the little animal. Apparently it had chakra, too!

The rabbit's long ears perked. I instinctively fell into a crouch behind a bushy thicket, holding my breath. Though shrouded from a good view of the rabbit, I could clearly see through the branches blue chakra fluctuating, ebbing progressively as the rabbit's instincts began to deny any danger. And finally, the chakra stabilized.

Suddenly, a flash of black appeared and blocked my view. When the monster moved out of the way, the rabbit's blue light was gone.

"It got away," I said to the prince, upset at how he had ruined my chance. I had been so close! And the feeling of the hunt itself had been...exhilarating. Never before had I experienced such a thrill, despite how it had ended prematurely. I saw the natural world in a new light as it revealed itself to me. To understand that even the tiniest organisms, most of which I had yet to see, contained and consumed chakra was extremely humbling. But at the same time, _sensing_ chakra brought new feelings of awareness and strength.

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips, expression soft and bemused. "You were always a healer, not a hunter." He paused, and it was only after his brows creased did I realize the oddity of what he had just said. His countenance visibly darkened when he noticed me watching him.

He brought forth from behind his back a bundle of fur. It was the rabbit. I expected to find the poor creature wriggling for freedom in his grip, yet it quiet and still.

"You killed it." It was more or less of a question than a statement, though I already knew the answer.

"You were obviously too weak to do it." He turned away, ripped something, and flung it far into the garden. He procured a long plank. "Stand behind me."

Two sturdy wooden stakes jutted out of the ground, and on these he placed the plank. I didn't understand his intentions until, following a rapid series of strange hand movements, an immense burst of yellow and orange heat expelled from his lips. Sounds of crackling meat alone sated my hollow stomach, and soon, a pleasant aroma began to permeate the morning air. The yellow and orange flames dwindled slowly at first, and then dispersed into dozens of glittering sparks.

"How did you do that?" I asked, unable to withhold the wonder from my voice.

His lips twitched, but he remained silent.

He gestured with a subtle turn of his face towards the grill, motioning for me to retrieve the steaming plank. Walking towards the stakes, I covered my hands with my sleeves as makeshift mittens and grasped the board. It was hot and warmed my fingers through the fabric of my yukata. Disgustedly, I noticed that the meat had been skinned and its head removed. I figured that the entrails had been removed as well. Some things, I decided, were just not meant to be understood.

"Eat," came the command.

I looked down at the board. "With my hands?"

"Do you prefer to use your feet?"

I sighed in defeat. Daintily tearing the tender meat into small pieces, I curled my lip in revulsion upon seeing a hint of pink in it. I hated medium rare.

He noticed my expression and frowned. "Ingrate. Don't expect me to do this for you ever again."

As I began to eat, a thought came to me. Carefully, I tore off a piece and extended a hand to him. He didn't seem to understand the gesture, and for a moment he stared at me blankly.

"Surely you must be hungry, too," I said, watching the look of understanding dawn on his face.

He pushed my hand back gently. "I don't need food."

I extended my hand again, but he shook his head. A grimace played upon his features.

"I'm not like you." He left and disappeared into the hallway, leaving me to wonder the meaning of his words.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, most of it spent slaving away cleaning the corridors leading to the main hall. I took a few trips back and forth to the pond outside, casting a nervous eye upon any sudden rustling or loud snaps of twigs. But aside from seeing a squirrel scurry away from a hollow tree and into a bush, nothing of particular interest occurred.<p>

About after the millionth time that I returned back to the castle, the sun had begun to dip lower and lower in the blackening sky, painting the heavens a panorama of brilliant red and violet hues. Twinkling stars dotted the great expanse.

Stepping through the back doors and dragging the sloshing bucket through the hallways, I began to set forth on the main hall, but not before cringing at the prospect of having to once again wipe away countless cobwebs from the entire length of the huge hall. Cleaning all day proved to be a more arduous task than I had anticipated. Not only did it put intense strain on the whole of my hands, but my fingertips started to become red from the constant friction until they peeled and bled altogether.

There was a loud creak behind me. Dropping the bucket, I spun around. "Oh. It's you."

"Hn. You seem disappointed," he remarked almost apologetically, though I knew he could care less. "You've finished most of the east wing."

"Don't you have a vacuum cleaner?"

"...What?"

"Or a band aid? I keep cutting my hands while working." I showed him my raw hands.

He briefly drifted his eyes towards my uplifted palms. "A _what_ aid?"

"You know, a little bandage—" I started to explain until he rudely cut me off with a prompt turn of his head. Turning away from me, he began to walk across the empty hall.

When I didn't follow after him, he threw a sharp glance behind his shoulder, clear irritation evident in his eyes and creased brows. Catching on, I wearily let my feet drag behind him, kicking up the dust from the sections of the castle I hadn't reached yet. We left the main hall, passed by the rickety stairs and the door to the garden. Brow furrowing, I followed my guide through a matrix of twisting halls, halls that I hadn't known existed. Where was he taking me?

I eyed him nervously. The cold stone walls looked as if they were closing in on us, the hall narrowing, the ceiling lowering, the atmosphere thickening. Lined along the walls every few meters or so were burning torches, their orange lights flickering and casting menacing shadows in every corner.

"Where are we going?" I received no reply.

We finally stopped at a single wooden door at the end of the hallway, the boards stained an aberrant mix of gray and black and the hinges brown with rust. The demon pocketed something in the folds of his pants, pulled it out, and inserted it into a key hole. The lock clicked and the door slowly opened. The hinges, antiquated from years of disuse, creaked loudly enough to rouse the dead and chilled me to the bone.

"Go."

I didn't move.

"Don't test my patience." With a rough push forward, he followed behind my stumbling figure after shutting the door. "Descend the stairs."

Sucking in a breath, I descended the spiral stairs at a snail's pace. An impatient finger prodded me in the shoulder to make haste. Eventually, the steps came to an end. Feeling blindly around for another step, my feet instead brushed across the solid, gravelly ground.

"Stand back."

Without further warning, a long streak of fire erupted, the intensity of the flames instantly warming the air. Amidst the solid darkness, the fire snapped at every direction. One by one, oiled torches that were hung across the walls lit up and illuminated a long stone passage, lined with metal doors. The prince drew another key from his pocket and slipped it into the lock of a door to our first left. Was he going to lock me in there forever? Had he grown tired of me?

A soft click sounded and the door swung open.

"Get in."

Without further instruction or warning, he gruffly pushed me into the room. Shutting my eyes, I expected the worst: damp, moldy quarters, rats, a barred window, cracks along the walls, a decomposing body...

"Look."

Nervously opening my eyes, I was not prepared to see the sight before me.

The room was entirely adorned with treasure and splendor worthy of royalty. An ornate bed made of what seemed to be ivory and gold stood at the farthest corner, complete with layers upon layers of silk. A heavy mahogany wardrobe, carved with intricate patterns and embedded with golden handles, sat at the other corner. A thick, lavish rug lay unrolled on the ground; a black, lacquered short table rested on top of it. There were a great number of little treasures around the room, like a jade statuette of a phoenix, porcelain vases, archaic jewelry boxes, and a large gilded chest. Above all, the thing that seized my attention the most was the stack of scrolls and pamphlets, their edges tattered and yellowed, scattered all across the floor near the back wall.

I could only turn to the prince with an uplifted brow in question. "What is all this?"

He walked over to a drawer and came back with a roll of gauze in his hand. In the other, he drew a small orb of greenish chakra and placed it in my torn palms. I observed with the utmost curiosity and fascination when I saw that the ripped skin began to reattach and heal. He held the green light to my neck as well, and instantaneously all soreness began to disappear from the area. Next, he ripped off a length of the gauze with his sharp claws and wrapped them tightly around each of my hands.

"These are your new quarters."

"But... why?" My voice was failing me. Everything was sparkling. Everything was so beautiful.

He did not respond until seeing to the completion of this task.

"You are to stay here until I come for you every day. If you need something," he said, ignoring my inquiry completely, "you must not leave regardless. You are to wait here."

"I don't understand," I whispered.

He still held my bandaged hands. Slowly, he rose his eyes to meet mine. He reached toward my cringing face. I merely watched, afraid. His fingers slowly slid across the long strands of my hair. His hand—when had it let go of my hair?—found the side of my head and caressed it almost tenderly. Where his fingers briefly touched and left burned hot.

"You make it so difficult for me," he said, barely above a whisper. Then suddenly, it looked as if he finally realized where he was, what he was doing. He blinked and stared at me. I stared back. He pulled away slowly; our hands trailed.

He fled from the room.


	7. Visitation

**VII. Visitation**

My skin still burned after he left. He had touched me as if we were... as if he and I were... no. No. How could I even consider something like that? I couldn't bring myself to finish the thought. I didn't even know what appalled me more: my largely involuntary reactions to his behavior _or _the sliver of hope that the moment meant more than what it was probably worth.

He and I could never be anything more, not after everything that he had done to me. He was cruel and cold, and he had hurt me in more ways than I could count. Even if he had healed me and relocated me to a new room, he was still the monster that kept me captive and made it clear that he would kill me for disobedience. I was only alive through our negotiation. It would only be a matter of time until he realized that I was useless to his goals. Then he would surely kill me. Suddenly, the memory of his touch left me disgusted with myself. All I wanted was to run to the pond and wash myself clean of his lingering scent.

As much as I hated him, it was hard to ignore the gold that glittered all around me. The ivory walls reflected the soft glow of lighted candelabrum made of polished brass. Strung across four bed posts hung long lengths of maroon velvet with gold fringe, partially concealing the luxury of the plump pillows and fur throws behind them. There was a jewelry box encrusted with gems sitting upon a large bureau. Its oblong, gilded mirror sported a fine coat of dust. The large dresser beside it contained neatly folded dresses in a collection of stunning hues, from sky blue to mint green to salmon. Some had russet leaves or blossoms sewn into the hems and sleeves to emulate the spirit of their respective seasons. But most interesting of all were the yellowing scrolls stored at the back of the room. I took one from a pile, and, after unrolling it, I was surprised to find interesting medical information in neat calligraphy.

_"To extract poison from the heart, prepare a deep and wide dish of warm water, heated towels, and a low concentration of thornapple extract. Have the patient sedated or, depending on the severity of his condition, restrained by..."_

Yet another scroll listed more instructions on how to heal ailments. In fact, most of the scrolls featured diagnoses and scientific observations. A few pamphlets explained issues related to "jutsu" on how to "shatter mountains" or how to "call summons." Though interesting, the terminology only confused me. Who on earth could split the ground with a punch or call upon giant animals? Ridiculous.

As I leafed through the mass, I found a thin notebook hidden behind a desk. It was nothing more than some rough parchments strung together with twine. They were diary entries, some skipping months at a time, some only a few phrases, others whole pages. There were ink spots and angry dashes. None of the sentences were perfectly straight. The handwriting was messy and rushed. Emotional. Frank. Nothing like the scrolls I had read earlier.

_February_

_I used to envy the royals. The orphanage treated me well enough, but there was never enough to eat, not quite enough to wear. Never imagined that I would join the very people I once envied. But now that I'm here, I miss having time to myself. I miss talking to my friends. I hate learning about things I don't care for. I hate etiquette. I hate the royal customs. I can't ever speak without being scolded. Have to speak super politely and formally all the time. It's so stuffy and uncomfortable. Everyone in the court seems to hate me. Except maybe the prince. I think we've come to a truce. He doesn't glare at me anymore. He doesn't care that I follow him to the summer manor. He just ignores me._

_March_

_My fifteenth birthday. The orphanage would have remembered. Nobody in the castle remembered. I doubt the prince even remembered. I hardly see him anyway. He's too busy sulking and snapping at the poor servants. Every day I'm reminded of his horrible character, and the more I think about it, the less I want to marry him. Not like I have a choice, though._

_July_

_Last week was the prince's birthday. We had a special dinner with the king and queen, but the prince hardly spoke at all. The king was just as bad. The queen tried to lighten the mood by poking fun at them and speaking to me very kindly. If there's anyone at the castle that I like, it's probably her. Anyway, after dinner I tried to be nice by telling the prince happy birthday. But he didn't say thank you or anything. He just looked at me and walked away! And I was under the impression that the royals were taught etiquette!_

_September_

_The eldest prince's name is Itachi. He's nothing like his younger brother. In fact, he's the complete opposite of him. He's very polite and courteous. He never sulks. He treats his servants fairly. He actually makes conversation with the king and queen, and even with me. I think he pities me, knowing that I have to marry his dumb brother..._

Two loud knocks on the door abruptly interrupted my preoccupations. Opening the door, I was greeted by a dark hallway, a plate of steaming food, and a cylindrical cup of tea. For the rest of the night, I dined alone and read a few more entries until I fell asleep.

* * *

><p><em>There was rain everywhere, flying from all directions. <em>

_A black sky. _

_Then a streak of brilliant white, followed by claps of thunder._

_ Trees were shaking from the howling winds. In the distance, the top of a castle jutted up over the line of trees, barely touching the sky._

_The little pond beside nearby the surrounding violence. Rain was cutting into the surface like needles, and the wind blew with such force that waves were crashing up and down._

_"At last, I've finally found you," said a man, who approached from the forest. His piercing red eyes glowed so brightly, they appeared as two floating orbs that were moving slowly toward me. His hand held a long dagger of light, like a streak of lightning stolen from the sky. The rest of him remained cloaked in darkness._

_Then suddenly, the red eyes and the dagger were gone..._

_...and from behind me, I could feel hot breaths beating into my neck._

_Then there was the flash of lightning, but not in the sky. Looking down, I found the crackling bolt emerging from my stomach, and beneath its unnatural blue light my blood sparkled black. In one swift motion, the man slid the bolt out and watched me fall to my knees._

_The wind continued to howl. Rain kept falling. Waves were crashing. The sky erupted in light and sound_—

"Get up."

The voice echoed faintly at first, then grew louder. It sounded impatient, too. Why was I shaking...?_  
><em>

It took a moment to realize that someone was nudging me.

"I am not asking you again. Get up."

Groaning, I blinked open my eyes to find the prince hovering above me at my bedside. A little flustered, I drew the covers closer to me. He, on the other hand, didn't find the situation even remotely embarrassing.

"Get dressed. Eat." He pointed to a tray of food on the dresser behind him. "Then you may leave your quarters and come to the study down the hall." A pause. "I heard you screaming. In your sleep."

I had been screaming? The dream had indeed been vivid...and terrifying, but I had been screaming, too? I bit my lip, unsure of what to say. Was he annoyed? Angry, even? I didn't even know what _I _felt at the moment. It was just a dream. A dream. Yet even as I repeated this to myself, a sort of dull pain had coiled deep in my stomach. It was as though I could feel that bolt of light stab straight into my belly, probing guts and poking the thick wall of flesh on the other side.

My fingers brushed across my stomach. There was no blood, no puncture wound. Just a dream. Nothing more, nothing less. For all I knew, the man was just a figment of my imagination, a visual representation of my innermost feelings and thoughts. Perhaps I felt trapped? (That was certainly an option, considering my circumstances.) Or...

"You were really loud," said the prince. "I could hear you from the other side of the passages."

I drew the covers closer to me, embarrassed.

"Are you alright?" he said.

His concern surprised me. "Yes," I answered slowly. I decided that I would not dwell on it any longer.

"For certain?"

_No._ "Yes."

He looked unconvinced. "Alright then."

As he prepared to leave, a sudden compulsion caused me to reach out and grasp the long sleeve of his shirt, but I could only lightly brush one in the attempt. He still felt it and stopped.

"What?" he asked.

I swallowed. I was absolutely nervous, but perhaps in a good way. I wasn't sure. Pushing past memories of the nightmare, all I could now think about was what had happened between us the night before. The way he had looked at me and touched me—I couldn't get it out of my mind.

It was now or never.

"Yesterday... You and I..."

"There is nothing to discuss," he interjected, casting his eyes elsewhere. The conversation was over long before it had begun.

He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

I didn't want to admit it, but his blatant dismissal of what I had hoped would be a meaningful talk had hurt more than expected.

* * *

><p>The study was even larger a room than the one I had been given. It was a little dull and dreary, not unlike most libraries with shelves upon shelves of dusty books. He sat in a large chair—which more or less looked like a throne—and was bent over a desk, studying something intently.<p>

Without looking up to acknowledge me, he said, "You overslept and ate late. Training cannot be postponed any longer. As of now, you are to awaken no later than the _**Hour of the Rabbit**_."

_Yes, sir._ "Are we continuing off from last time?"

"Hn," came the affirmative reply. "You have analyzed the scrolls in your quarters," he said, his words more an assertion than inquiry.

I nodded._  
><em>

"Perhaps it is time you put them to practice." He stood up slowly and examined me. I had donned a mint green yukata, a dress which I had thought accentuated my eyes. "Your dress," he said, stepping towards me. I saw his eyes dip lower and lower on my form.

My heart stilled for a fraction of a second.

"Yes...?"

"It must be shorter."

He bent down, grasped my dress, and tore at the hem. He pulled away a long strip of fabric.

"What are you doing?" I shrieked in horror, backing away. He had bared most of my legs.

"You cannot expect to train in clothes that hinder your movements, woman," he explained calmly, as if it were all too obvious.

"Oh," I breathed dumbly. The yukata now reached right above my knee, roomy enough to run in.

"Take this," he said before he flung an object at me. Catching it before it clattered to the floor, I saw that it was the uchiwa I had found some time ago.

"You had it all along?"

"You should know that it is no ordinary fan. Only with my chakra could I inflict damage upon it. I never did think that I would see it again...until you 'happened' upon it in the forest."

"Then, it belonged to you before?"

"Irrelevant. Keep this with you at all times. It is both a tracker and a compass."

"But it looks nothing like—"

"Shut up. Keep it with you. If you lose it, I'll have your head."

"Fine," I relented, slipping the little fan safely into a pocket, as absurd as the thought was.

"Stop standing there like a moron. Head over to the gardens. You know the way."

Before I could exit the study's entrance, I managed to catch a phrase uttered from the back of the room through, what I imagined, were clenched teeth: "Women."

"Men," I mumbled, but I was sure he had heard it anyway.

* * *

><p>By the time I reached the gardens, the sun was high in the sky.<p>

He had yet to show up, so I wandered about the gardens. Quite a bit of work was needed to restore it to its original glory: a trim or two here, a pruning there, a clean-up in the little pond below the red bridge, etc. Deeper into the garden, it only became all the more chaotic. Vines had overgrown, spanning a large area of the garden. Shrouded behind a curtain of willow-like leaves, I could barely see the castle's back entrance from here—

A long and raspy cackle—or perhaps a wheeze—sounded.

I started, nearly jumping out of my skin. "I wish you'd stop doing that!" I said crossly as I turned around, expecting to find an old man of such pitiful stature and physique that I immediately felt sorry for him. Still, I stood my ground cautiously, merely observing his bony hands that leaned on a twisted wooden cane, withered face, and crooked back.

"Sakura-_**hime**_!" he croaked.

_Eh? _"Ah, who are you?"

He fell to his knees, half bowing and half crouching to my mortification. "It has been some time since our last encounter. I am Gizou, the former Majesty's assistant."

"Gizou?" I repeated, the name feeling foreign to my tongue. "I'm sorry, but you must have mistaken me for someone else." It's certainly happened before.

The one called Gizou peered up from underneath sagging eyelids. He prepared to get up off the ground but halted, saying, "May I rise, Your Highness?"

"Uh..."

"My lady," he rasped, "I have searched long and far for you. It is such a joy to have at long last found—" He coughed violently into his sleeve, hacking coughs strong enough to rack his entire body.

"Ah, Gizou..." I called out cautiously, but the lack of honorifics made me feel impolite. "..._san_, please. Let me help you." I gingerly rested my hand upon his shoulder, but he shrugged it off gently.

"My lady, please pay it no mind. There are more important matters at hand—" He paused, coughed, then resumed. "Please. The kingdom has fallen to ruin since your absence, since the Prince's exile, and since the destruction of the Prince's clan. The events may shock you, for you have been gone for so long."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said as kindly as I could.

"Yes, you may not be able to accept all that has happened, but please understand. You must return to the kingdom at once to restore order," Gizou said as he took my hand to depart.

"Stop!" I said, retracting my hand from his surprisingly iron grasp. "I am clearly not the one you are looking for! I don't know anything."

His eyes, wide with previous excitement, had dimmed a little as he studied me. His eyes, dark and familiar, bore searchingly into mine—like he had tried to penetrate the depths of my very being. It left me unsettled.

"You speak the truth," he commented solemnly after a moment. "But I was certain that you were the missing princess. I recognized her chakra and identified it as yours. How can this be?" The man feebly placed his empty hand back onto the head of his cane again. "But perhaps you can still come. You can escape from this place, as it is apparent that you have become prisoner to the horrid beast within these grounds."

"You know about him?"

"The demon? Yes. It has been sealed here in this old summer manor. It once belonged to the clan which I served. But how did you enter here? This place is sealed, meant to keep in the beast and keep out stray vagrants and the like. You are surely not ninja are you?"

"_Ninja_?"

Gizou sighed. "I suppose not. But that will be for another place at another time. For now, we must hasten and flee from this place before the beast finds us!" The old man began to perform a series of symbols with his hands with breaking speed until a glowing orange globe formed in his wrinkled palm. "Now place your hand on it. Go on."

I eyed the man suspiciously. Who was he? And what was this strange, orange magic of his? Chakra? Or perhaps something dangerous? I moved to touch the thing but pulled away when I saw it flicker. Who knew what would happen if I were to follow him—if I were to touch that orb? But if he spoke the truth about freeing me from this place...

My throat tightened. I couldn't quite remember how long I had been away from home. It must not have been for more than a few days, yet the monotony and fear and uncertainty made time seem to pass so slowly I could hardly consider myself sane now. I knew little of my prison and the strange world around it. I knew even less of the master of the castle, whose temper often flared at even the most trifling matters. At one moment, he seemed to hate me with the unbridled passion of a madman, and it was during those times when I feared most for my life. But later, he would approach me with less disdain and more caution. And then like last night, when he touched my hair and truly _looked_ at me, it felt almost human... like he was seeing me in a new light. And I felt that maybe, we had finally understood each other. If I left this place, he would be all alone...

Wait. Was I actually _sorry_ for him? Disconcerted, I quickly shook the feeling away. I had wanted to escape from the beginning, so what was holding me back?

With more resolution, I placed my palm upon the globe, surprised that it was as warm as its fiery color appeared. Its soft warmth spread through my fingers and circulated throughout my body. It was... strange but pleasant.

"Prepare yourself," said Gizou, raising his voice the best he could through a series of dry coughs. He closed his eyes, and his brows knit together in deep concentration. The orb glowed brighter. I felt warmer. The man grew silent; his coughing fit had subsided now.

I felt warm and comfortable, as if I were bathing in a sea of perfect nothingness. There were no bobbing waves or violent winds. Just invisible, soft water lapping against my skin. And I was floating on the surface, wanting to pull beneath into the full sensation.

Before me, the garden was melting. The trees and their green drapes began to spin and conglomerate. At a distance, the little bridge shrunk and converged within itself, now appearing as nothing more than a red speck. And my hand, still clutching the orange light, gnarled like fluid snakes, but there was neither pain nor fear at the sight. Just warmth.

The world was turning on its axis, and we were at the center of it all. When it stopped moving, before us appeared a new landscape, dirty and gray and horrible all at once.

I had been brought to hell.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to <em><strong>dances. with. sunflowers<strong>_ for **reviewing nearly every single darn chapter**. I am mind-blown. And of course, thanks to **_wingedmercury_**, my awesome-ass beta.**

**Glossary**

**Hour of the Rabbit:** 5-7 am


	8. Homecoming

**VIII. Homecoming**

We emerged from the shadows of an alley and stepped forth into cloudy daylight. In the distance, a large tower expelled thick fumes that colored the sky a hazy brown. I could taste the soot in my mouth.

It was mid-morning now, yet surrounding us was the terse silence of a late evening. It hung heavily in the air, dark and putrid as the smoke enveloping the little village. I had been here for hardly a minute, yet I knew that I should keep quiet, lest I break the fragile silence and draw unneeded attention to myself. The villagers, too, mostly kept to themselves. They shuffled hurriedly past one another, like frightened animals.

Street vendors stood behind small carts lined along the yellow dirt streets. Unlike most greedy merchants I had met, they did not beckon passers-by with obnoxious sales pitch or coy smiles. Instead, they conducted business with polite nods and quiet exchanges. And after taking their purchases, the customers hurried away, passing by a group of uniformed men who huddled around a young boy. He was wailing piteously.

"Little thief," snarled a man in black garb.

"I was hungry," said the boy between wheezing sobs.

"That's 'sir' to you, boy." Another man kicked the boy, who whimpered softly in reply.

"Are you not thankful to our Lord for his graciousness? He has provided you ungrateful peasants grain."

"B-but," said the boy, "my family's portion was infested with vermin."

"Is that any justification for thievery?" said another man, who threw what looked to be a bun at the ground. He trampled on it, and then rolled it over with his foot so that it became covered with dirt. His comrades laughed at his antics, and the collective sound thundered throughout the quiet streets.

The boy tentatively reached for the bread, but the men proceeded to taunt and harass him until he lay crumpled at their feet. His cries for mercy were stomped out by the soles of the men's boots. Then, when they were done and made to leave, one of the cruel men stopped and caught my gaze.

"What are you looking at, woman?"

"You—" I began to say before I felt a hand on my shoulder. Gizou had witnessed it, too, but the look in his eyes warned me to leave the situation be. This was no place to stir trouble.

Deflated, I gave in and turned away. The old man slowly guided me to a ramshackle bar nearby, where we were seated at a secluded table. The few other patrons inside sat far apart from one another and drank quietly. There was something utterly wrong about this place. Something dead and heavy. But I couldn't exactly fathom what.

"Miss, you mustn't antagonize them," said Gizou in a low voice.

"Who are they? And how come no one stopped them? That little boy was—"

"I know." The old man nodded. "But if you had intervened, you would have endangered both yourself and the boy. You don't know what those **_Kobun _**are capable of."

"Kobun?"

"Yes. Those men in black uniform are called Kobun. They are the state police."

"Then why were the _police _beating a child? Even if he did steal some bread, couldn't they have simply taken him to their station and, I don't know, called his parents?"

Gizou chuckled darkly, though his eyes showed no glimmer of humor. "Take my word for it, miss. It was better that they beat him than take him to their Base. That boy was shown mercy."

"Mercy?" I said, feeling my anger flare. Before I could comment further, a woman approached us.

"May I help you two?" said the waitress, whose prettiness was buried beneath pallid skin and sunken eyes.

"A pot of tea," Gizou replied with a curt nod of dismissal. The waitress left.

"Sir," I said to the old man, "I simply don't understand. What kind of a police force does that to a child, especially in public? Those men should be reported to their chief."

He drew in a deep breath. "Their chief wouldn't care. After all, he was the one who demanded such cruelty from them. He is also their general, the commander of the kingdom's entire military force, as well as the ruler of this kingdom and other domains surrounding the land. He has been since the war."

"War?"

"Our forces were split between handling the monster and the chaos at the village flank. But when the time came for us to lock the monster away, it had already killed numerous innocents. It took all the strength of our men to seal him within the old castle, the very place in which you were imprisoned." He was watching me steadily, his eyes narrowed and lips pressed.

The young waitress came back with a teapot and two cups. We waited for her to pour the tea and leave before resuming our conversation.

"And that is why," Gizou said, "I marvel at how you were able to infiltrate the barrier and trespass into castle grounds. You say you are not ninja, and you deny that you are the missing princess, but the resemblance so greatly struck me that I—"

"Kaminari Sakura," I said, realization dawning on me. She was the one whose name had been carved into the tree. She was the one who Sasuke had mistaken me for... And the one who he hated with unbridled passion.

Gizou nodded. "Yes. So when I found you in the garden, I thought it made sense that the princess had been missing for so long. I thought that perhaps she had been abducted by the monster before being sealed in the castle with it. Maybe it had been its plot all along. But it seems that that was far from the truth."

He lifted his cup to his lips. Out of courtesy, I followed suit, only to shudder from the bitter taste of orange rinds and coffee beans. The disgust on my face must have shown plainly because the old man smiled.

"You are definitely not from these parts, I presume. This is the Fire's fabled tea, the national beverage."

"I see," I said, keeping a straight face despite wanting to vomit._  
><em>

"Even the most hardened war heroes and diplomats break down after drinking this for the first time. I suppose it is an acquired taste, bred only among the people of Konoha."

"This place is called Konoha?"

"My, you must hail from very distant lands," Gizou mused. "Yes. Konoha. One of the few nations to possess an exceptionally strong military force. Even many children became such fine, fine ninja."

"_Children_?"

"Why, yes."

"You've got to be kidding me," I scoffed, expecting at any moment for the old man to burst out laughing at my gullible nature. The moment never came.

"I am quite serious."

"Oh, c'mon," I said, still disbelieving but with less conviction than before. "You can't tell me that they teach little kids how to be assassins. That's just... so... You're really not joking, are you?"

Gizou shook his head. "No, I am not. Well, I suppose my words hold little meaning now. Ninja academies have been destroyed since the establishment of the new government. People were not happy at all," he said, taking a sip of his tea.

"Why do they live like this? Why can't anyone put an end to this and—"

Gizou held up a finger to his mouth, motioning to soften my voice. No one in the bar seemed to listen to us, but I heeded his warning regardless.

Then he spoke quietly. "Challenging the government would guarantee certain death. In the past, a few insurrectionists attempted to regain control of the kingdoms, but no one knows what became of them. Their families now suffer in their stead, toiling day and night in the fields and factories. Others keep to themselves and obey the law the best they can. But..."

The old man set his cup on the table, merely watching the steam rise for a moment. Then, breaking out of his reverie, he shook his head.

"We mustn't continue to discuss such matters here. I think I know someone who can better assist you." He placed a few coins on the table and stood, glancing around us. "If you'll follow me, miss." He held out his hand, and the orange globe materialized again, bright and perfect just as before.

I touched it, and a surge of warmth traveled through my body. In seconds, we were out of the bar.

* * *

><p>"Lost, huh?"<p>

"Yes. I was patrolling the area when I detected a chakra signature so familiar that I... well it led me to this girl."

"How so?"

"I thought it was the princess. But instead, I found this girl wandering around the old summer manor."

"You mean where the monster...?"

"Yes. She was taken prisoner some time ago."

"What makes you think we should trust her? It's suspicious enough that you found her still alive. She should have been burnt to a black crisp for uncovering the barrier." The beautiful woman crossed her arms across her buxom chest, her expression sour. "Take off the genjutsu glamor you've put on her. The chakra it's emanating is absolutely stifling."

Gizou sighed. "Tsunade-san..."

"Glamor?" I said, confused.

"Yeah, a disguise," explained the woman called Tsunade, but in a rude tone. "He gave you black hair and brown eyes. The usual every day, nothing-to-look-at village girl look."

Was that a compliment or an insult? "When did you disguise me, Gizou-san?"

"During our travel here, Miss. If I hadn't, the Kobun would have stopped and questioned you."

"Now that I really look at you, you really do resemble the princess," Tsunade commented. "And your chakra signature does feel somewhat like hers as well."

"Miss, I'll be leaving you in Tsunade-san's care for now. I will come back for you soon."

Gizou then disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving me in the presence of an irascible, half-deranged woman. I could almost feel her fierce, amber eyes burn holes into my back.

"Ah, Tsunade-san," I said, cutting to the chase. I had wasted enough time already. "Gizou-san said that you could help me. And I was wondering..."

"What's your name?"

"Sakura."

"Heh. Sakura, huh? Funny coincidence."

"Please, ma'am. I need to return home. I've been gone for days now."

"Where you from?"

"The city."

She sighed. "I doubt you'll get there anytime soon."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean... no one here can easily go in and out of the village. Those bastard Kobun won't allow it."

"But Gizou-san—"

"Yeah, I know. He transports and stuff. But the jutsu can't travel far distances. And I assume that by 'city' you meant the capital of the Water Country? That's the closest city we have from here. But even that is much too far for transporting."

Water Country?

"No, it shouldn't be too far from here. I just wandered in some woods and got lost. It couldn't be more than a mile or two away."

She shook her head. "You poor thing. I can't imagine what kind of psychological torture that monster put you through."

I considered telling her about the contract between the monster and me. Would she deem me a traitor of the state and cast me away? Or worse, would she report me to the authorities, who would surely beat me to death? Yet the woman seemed too fiercely independent to allow a group of cowards to bully her into submission. I couldn't imagine her throwing me to the gnashing muzzles of those dogs either. At the same time, I wasn't sure I could tell her yet. I hadn't even told Gizou either.

"Ma'am," I said, "where am I exactly?"

"An underground hospital," she said, bored. She was checking her manicured nails. "We, along with a few other ninja, hide out here. Technically, Gizou-san and I shouldn't even be alive right now."

"Why?"

"We're not exactly friends of the government. If the oh-so honorable lordship learns that we're still alive, he'll do whatever it takes to get rid of us. And I mean that wholeheartedly."

"Because he hates ninja?"

"Because he hates ninja." Tsunade nodded. "More specifically, it seems he hates anyone with authority or power. Or both, actually. To practice the ninja arts is to commit treason. But a few of us won't stand for that nonsense. That's why I'm stuck in this shit hole of a hospital, directing some fifty or so ninja stowaways." She paused, a pensive expression in her eyes. "We're the last of our kind."

The room fell silent, the atmosphere pregnant with gravity and sadness. A single light bulb colored the small room a sickly yellow. There were two beds, separated by a makeshift curtain, and metal file cabinets and square tile floors. But there were no windows or flowers or balloons. However, I understood the absence of those things were due to the secrecy of the hospital. Of course there could be no windows; we were underground, hidden away from society. And why should the inhabitants feign happiness with flowers or balloons?

Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal two boys: one an exuberant blue-eyed blond, and the other an extremely pale guy with black hair.

"Tsunade-**_baachan_**! What'd you call me here for?" the blond loudly called out, despite the fact that Tsunade was only a few feet away. Meanwhile, I quietly watched the proceedings in a corner. The two boys didn't seem to notice me yet.

"Stupid brat!" exclaimed Tsunade. "Naruto, how many times have I told you _not _to slam the doors here? It's annoying enough to have to invest chakra every month to keep us alive. We don't need your stupidity to blow our cover."

"Sorry," said the boy called Naruto, who was rubbing his head sheepishly. "I keep forgetting."

"Ugh." Tsunade sighed, clearly exasperated. "Now, Naruto, Sai. Don't be rude to our guest." She gestured toward me.

The two boys turned to me. But instead of receiving typical greetings, I was welcomed with shocked expressions and an awkward silence. "Um, hi, my name is Haruno Sakura."

"T-tsunade-baachan. Is... Is this...?"

"No, Naruto. She's not her."

"But she looks exactly the same! Exactly as she did six years ago! Sakura-chan!" Naruto promptly ran up to me and enveloped me in a crushing embrace.

"Wh-who are you?" I said, feeling uneasy. The guy smelled like instant ramen noodles and onions, neither of which I was particularly fond. I shot a worried glance at Tsunade and the pale boy called Sai, but both of them merely observed the scene at a polite distance.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto released me, and his eyes welled up in tears. "Sakura-chan, don't you remember me? I've missed you sooo much! I wanted to die for being unable to protect you and that bastard Sasuke!"

"Naruto." The monotonous voice belonged to the boy Sai. "That isn't her."

"It's true, Naruto." Tsunade nodded.

"What? This _has_ to be Sakura-chan! She even has that scar below her right ear! You can't tell me this is just coincidence!"

I stood in shock, mouth agape. How did he know I had a birthmark there? Three pairs of eyes locked on the spot below my ear.

"This girl doesn't have the same chakra signature as the princess's," Sai reasoned.

"You guys are being such idiots! How can you two not notice the obvious similarities? She has Sakura-chan's name, eyes, hair, scar, voice, everything! I knew her better than any of you ever did!" Naruto cried hysterically.

I felt insignificant for having been treated as if I were not there—who were these strangers, talking about me so openly? "I'm sorry, but I'm not who you think I am."

Sai and Tsunade remained silent while Naruto began to shake with uncontrollable emotion. I almost regretted spitting out such an offhanded remark, as true as it was. I could feel the depth of this boy's heartbreak, and it tore me apart to see him in such pain.

"I know it's you, Sakura-chan. I _know_ it is. You just can't remember. It has to be you. It _has_ to be."

I wanted to reach out and comfort him but the damage was done. Naruto wiped his eyes on an orange sleeve and then slowly exited the room. All I could do was watch the quiet shuffle of his sandal-clad feet as he left. The door slammed shut a heartbeat later.

Tsunade groaned. "Told him not to slam the _damn_ door."

"It's alright. Don't feel bad," Sai said to me, offering some consolation. It helped little to remove the guilt that now resided in my heart.

"Why is he like that?" I asked to no one in particular.

"The prince and princess were his two best friends. Since their disappearance, it's been difficult for him to move on. Please try to understand."

"Do I really resemble the princess that much?"

The sad smile that graced Tsunade's red lips was confirmation enough. "We're sorry to have caused you so much trouble. You've been through a lot yourself."

"I'm sorry myself that I acted the way I did. I didn't know he would react like that."

The woman sighed, a strand of fine blonde hair falling into her face. "It can't be helped. He has to accept reality for what it is."

"Haruno-san, we were informed that you had escaped from the castle," Sai said, entirely out-of-the-blue.

"Uh, yes," I said, taken aback by his spontaneous inquiry. "Gizou-san found me."

"What led you to finding that castle?"

"I'm sorry?"

Sai glanced briefly at Tsunade, who nodded her consent for him to continue. "From my basic understanding, the section of the forest in which you entered was concealed by a powerful genjutsu. Beneath it is a barrier that has kept the monster sealed away for years."

"But if this so-called 'barrier jutsu' is really all that strong, how was Gizou-san able to break into it?" I asked. _And in such deteriorating condition… That old man really must be something._

"Gizou is one of the few skilled ninja to erect the barrier and survive the war."

"I don't doubt Gizou-san's ability, but... doesn't he seem a bit frail?"

"Ah. You are referring to his sickness. It's a genetic disorder that's cursed his family line for generations. It started with a chronic cough, but the symptoms are aggravated from physical strain. Even I had difficulty alleviating the symptoms. Even the princess, my own pupil..."

At this, the mighty fortress of a woman Tsunade began to dab at the corners of her wet eyes. Sai stood by silently, looking unsure of how to act as he awkwardly shifted his weight on a different leg. But before long, the woman regained composure by steadying her breaths and straightening an invisible wrinkle on her pants.

"Haruno," she said after a moment's pause, "Sai. I called you two and Naruto to undergo a secret mission. If we fail, it could cost us our lives."

"Wait, what? I never agreed to any of this!" I protested.

Tsunade turned to the pale boy. "Sai, please retrieve Naruto."

"Understood." In an instant, he disappeared in a puff of dark smoke.

Tsunade sat on a bed and motioned that I sit beside her. Reluctantly, I did. And then she began to speak.

"When the war broke out, many people died. The princess and the prince both disappeared within weeks of each other, and the royal family was eliminated. Other ninja vanished. Our forces fought with all we had, but we were vastly outnumbered. I thought it was strange that shortly after the monster appeared, the kingdom's flank was attacked. I realize now that the monster served as a distraction so that our overall defenses were lowered. That is when the enemy struck full force and eventually claimed the throne.

"Then he declared that practicing ninjutsu was forbidden and punishable by law. Ninja were killed left and right. Civilians were forced into hard manual labor. Kobun were put into power, resorting to violence to keep potential rebels in line. Their leader currently hides behind shadows, relying on his subordinates to do his dirty work. To this day, we don't know who or where he is.

"Despite that, only one thing is for certain: our people starve for freedom. They need it more desperately than they will admit. But as the days go by and more of the older generation is rooted out, all that remains is their children who were born without an inkling of democracy. They don't know that a wide world exists beyond this prison. All they know is what they see. But they don't see much of anything at all.

"This mission isn't merely to kill the 'bad guys.' It's about reteaching our people our former traditions. Konoha never settled for anyone's bullshit. We were strong and powerful! And we never feared failure—we merely did what we desired and succeeded. And if we ever did fail, we learned how to avoid making similar mistakes a second time. This philosophy was what kept us so strong for centuries. But once we suffered a great loss, we caved in to the weight of failure. And now we're just a spluttering mess of fools and cowards.

"I want to restore Konoha to its former glory. But I need time to organize the last of my forces and clues on who the leader may be. And I _know _that somehow, he is connected to the sealed monster..."

I stood up, realization dawning on me. "You want me to go back to the castle."

"Yes."

"And you want me to gather intel."

A nod.

I thought long and hard. It didn't make sense that Sasuke should betray his own subjects. When Sasuke had told his true identity to me, he had said it with such swelling pride that I came to believe him. True, initially I had scoffed at his bold assertion. But it was evident in the way he carried himself and spoke that he was indeed of noble blood. So what motive was there in handing his rightful kingdom to a psychopath, only to be locked away in a castle? It just didn't seem... like him.

Sometime after our agreement, Sasuke had changed, if even slightly. He had clothed me, fed me, trained me, and even given me a beautiful room, all things that under 'normal' captive circumstances should not occur. And as I continued to ponder over these things, I realized that I wanted to understand him.

At that moment Gizou appeared before us. But before he could say anything, I had made up my mind.

"I accept."

The two ninja exchanged glances, but I could tell that Tsunade was relieved. Her red lips smiled in gratitude.

"Gizou-san," I said, turning to the old man, who stood with puzzlement on his face, "please take me back."

* * *

><p>The old man took me back to the castle. Before leaving, he said that he had placed a temporary charm upon the premises. Apparently, it would cause the 'monster' to forget the day's events, including the fact that I had left. But as a warning, Gizou instructed that I proceed with caution. A slip-up on my part would raise suspicion and potentially bring back the monster's memory.<p>

Pushing back the wall of vines from which I had hidden behind, I now could see the castle's back entrance. However, the early hours of evening had fallen and magenta clouds were clear in sight. How long had I been gone? Wouldn't Sasuke notice the obvious time lapse since our last meeting in the castle's study?

"What the hell are you doing out there?" a familiar, gruff voice asked.

Sasuke stood at the back entrance, a hand placed on his hip. Under his questioning gaze, I grew insecure and afraid. What if the charm didn't work? What would he do to me?_  
><em>

But apparently, he didn't care much for what I had to say. He turned away from the door and retreated back inside.

As I entered the castle and passed by him, I could feel his eyes bore holes into my back. I desperately continued to keep up my act of nonchalance, hoping that he would buy it and leave me alone. So when he lazily muttered, "Food's at your quarters" and left without another word, I exhaled a sigh of relief. He had bought it. But for how much longer could this go on?

By now, after having ventured in and out of the dank hallways twice, I was unafraid of going alone a third time. Water still dripped, mice still rustled nearby, the torches still blazed and crackled. Hot food lay in front of my door. Picking it up and entering the room, I resumed the ritual of the previous night by eating on my new bed as I studied the intricate scrolls.

Maybe I was getting adjusted to this new environment. Though I was still wary of Sasuke, my comfort lied solidly in the knowledge that he would not dare to kill me, his only chance at freedom. And for myself included, I was assured of my own independence from him now that I had Gizou and Tsunade and the other ninja back at Konoha. I would help them, and they would help me.

And I would be rescued from this place.

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary<strong>

**Kobun: **cohort, ally, assistant, etc. I didn't want to use English words because it didn't seem do any justice.

**-baachan:** Granny


	9. A Mother's Love

**IX. A Mother's Love**

"Steady your stance."

I obeyed his instruction.

"Not like that. Feet apart. No, not that far apart. Don't be so rigid. Keep your knees slightly bent. Now put your left foot—no." A disgruntled sigh. "Copy my stance."

I followed suit, trying to imitate his form to the minutest detail. Though I sincerely tried to do as he asked, the slow progress was beginning to visibly eat away at his patience, for the frown on his face appeared deeper set than usual. Often he would shut his eyes, refusing to acknowledge me for some time before deciding for himself that his efforts were ultimately geared towards his benefit. That was probably motivation enough for him to continue on, even if at times I also felt like an idiot for even trying.

We had been training for about two weeks now. Actually, it was more accurate to call it "prepping." To be even more precise, it was actually more like training _in order_ to train. Now who does that? I did, apparently—that was just how inadequate I was, and that was the extent of how much I needed to nail even the fundamental basics down before I could perform grade-level jutsu. At least, that was what he had told me.

The morning after I had come back from the secret rendezvous with the Konoha ninja, I was unable to awaken myself at the early hour Sasuke had instructed me to–was it the Hour of the... what had it been exactly? The Hour of the Rat? The Rabbit? 5 or 6 AM?—Well, in any case, he was not pleased with my tardiness, nor was he pleased that he had to come rouse me from my heavy sleep. I likened the image to that of a mother waking her little children in the morning to go to school, and I supposed that he had conjured a similar image and found it quite offensive.

For the next few days, I rose a bit earlier than the previous morning without the aid of an alarm. (Perhaps the anxiety of having to face a cranky prince worried me enough to activate my internal clock?) Later, after eating a light meal, he had tried to help me perfect some martial-artsy forms that he claimed were integral to the success of executing certain jutsu. Frankly speaking, I never once completely understood his laconic statements about the different types of "jutsu." Even when I had the curiosity to ask him, he would merely offer a cold gaze, as if to say that I was the world's biggest moron known to mankind.

Today was no different. We had been out back for some time now, and I was growing weary in spirit. The most I had been able to do was draw out little spurts of blue chakra from my hands on command, but otherwise...

"Your form is still too sloppy," he sniffed arrogantly.

Day after day, week after week, I had heard enough of his derisive complaints, so I found it tasteful to reply instead of openly receiving his insults like a mindless answering machine.

"And why must the student take all the rap?"

"The what?"

"Maybe the source of failure is not from the unable student, but from the inept instructor." I had even surprised myself with the steadiness of my voice, laced with a sharp candor that I made no effort to conceal.

His predictable reaction came without delay: red eyes narrowed menacingly, the line of his mouth tightened. He wasn't too angry yet—that much I had inferred—but if I prodded him a little more, his bruised ego would probably erupt.

"You talk too much. Perhaps I should rip off that mouth of yours?"

I grimaced. "This is going nowhere. I still haven't done anything right."

He eyed me dully. "So what do you want?"

"A break."

"No."

"We weren't going to do _no_thing. But I think it'd be wise to figure out what is preventing me from progressing, just for a minute."

He closed his eyes again in thought, his brow furrowed in agitation. As if silently accepting my proposal, he seated himself on the mossy stone terrace, turning his face away and hiding behind a veil of dark hair. He made no move to acknowledge my presence when I sat down beside him.

Time passed much too slowly when all was silent, when not even the birds sang their cheerful song. Maybe they also knew of the man who stood before me, whose unspoken afflictions ran rampant in his mind. He hid so much and detached himself from me, yet all at once left subtle clues of what he once was, what he longed to be again. And I wondered...

"You always mentioned how the castle is protected by a barrier. What would happen if you were to step outside the castle grounds?"

He didn't reply right away, but when he did his voice was but a murmur. "If I told you, would you run away?"

The question surprised me. "Ah, I don't—"

"Hn," came the simple reply, and he rose from the ground without further explanation. He wasn't in the mood to talk today. "Let's resume."

* * *

><p>After another fruitless afternoon, I was given permission to freshen up at the little pond behind the tall trees. Again, I was only given fifteen minutes.<p>

Following the stone path with a clean set of clothes folded neatly and tucked underneath my arm, I found the pond just as calm as it had last been. Behind the body of water was the dark forest that stretched for miles, the end of which I could never see through all the foliage. Without thinking, my eyes searched for the glint of a senbon amidst the hulking masses of dark trees—until I remembered that it had been confiscated shortly after I had shown it to Sasuke.

I set aside the clothing and towel on a patch of grass. A chilling gale swept through the trees, and for a moment, while I began to untie my obi, I reconsidered the prospect of washing in such oddly cold weather. As if to prove me wrong, the blazing sun upon my back and the warm soil beneath my feet beckoned me to stay.

And so, I peered into the water.

On its surface, beside my green eyes and pink tresses, was a woman with dark, matted hair and a horribly burnt red face, whose half-preserved nose and lips dripped crimson, whose small mouth glimmered with wetness, whose blood-filled eyes stared expectantly at me.

_"__**Tasukete**__, tasukete,"_ she sweetly whispered, a certain gurgling noise bubbling within her watery throat. _"My heart weeps for my dead son. Where is he? Where is my son?"_

I wanted to scream but my voice refused to erupt from my throat, as if it had been suppressed. I willed my feet to scramble away from the site, but unseen hands grasped at my ankles, scratching at the thin skin, clawing at my dress. My eyes could not tear their gaze from the Red Face, nor did hers from me.

_"Where is my son?"_ Red Face demanded. When I did not—could not—reply, her terrible face seemed to grow larger and loom closer whilst a chilling wind violently whirled past me. Her hysterical tone bordered on the brink of insanity, the delicateness gone and replaced with a frightening edge.

The hands that wrapped around my feet pulled me down and forward. My knees slammed painfully into gravel as I was forced to confront the Red Face up close. Struggling to fend off the ghostly hands, I could only move with small jerks, but my writhing only exhausted me and, in turn, empowered the phantoms.

A sharp convulsion seized my body to bend forward into the water, into the surface in which Red Face's horrid image lay. Wildly, I thrashed around with all the remaining strength I had, but my movements were powerless against the forces that held me down. My lungs burned like fire.

When my will to survive had begun to die, I was startled to hear the pond whisper to me, its quiet voice rushing in through my ears.

_"Breathe,"_ said a voice so light, like wind chimes.

_Who are you?_ I thought, too afraid to open my mouth.

_"Mikoto."_

The sound was so ethereal and inhuman that I wondered if I had died. I was no longer cold or afraid, and the burning in my chest ceased. Letting go of all apprehension, I allowed myself to breathe and found that my lungs were filled with air, not water.

_"Please, protect him from his hatred,"_ the soft voice said, before retreating back into eternal silence.

At that moment, thousands of little dots swarmed into my vision. Within a few heartbeats, the masses of dots converged into clumps, and then into a single pool. I could see something moving in it. Moments passed, and all I could see was a faint change of light, as one section would lighten while others remained dark. The blackness gradually lightened, and lines and shapes and images began to form on the surface.

I saw the shadowy outline of a misshapen hill beneath a full moon. Nearby were more crooked hills, some smaller than others. Encompassing them were puddles, seeping slowly out of the hills' bases and sparkling colorlessly in the moonlight. In the back stood a crumbling fortress engulfed in flames while thick smoke billowed out in steady puffs. The mounted flags that sat atop of the burning posts fluttered wildly as fiery tendrils quickly licked up the poles, until not a shred of the flags was left.

The picture panned in. When I could more thoroughly inspect the scene, I realized with horror that the many hills were not hills at all.

Bodies. Dozens of them, like mountains—the bases of which were drowning in a mixture of blood and dirt. Some faces lacked eyes, left with only two empty holes in their heads. Their mouths were wide open, jaws slackened from lifelessness. Limbs stuck out at unnatural angles.

Then the picture began to shift, and the millions of dots disassembled and then swarmed into a single mass. When the pieces had joined, I could now see a woman alone in the dark wilderness, clinging to a monument that stood erected on the ground.

She was sobbing and moving her lips, though I could not hear her. Her long, dark hair reflected moonlight and was splayed all around her, pooling beside her crumpled form as she wept. She wore heavy regal robes. Despite the tears and makeup that ran down her face, she was still quite beautiful.

With a jerky movement, the woman lifted her head, her wet eyes wide in alarm. She had heard or seen something. She rose from the ground as her robes straightened and billowed out beneath her. Slowly she shed the outer two layers, let them fall to the ground. The woman murmured something, and when a tall, dark figure emerged from the trees, she gasped and covered her mouth.

It was him. The man from my dream, the one who had killed me with a bolt of lightning. He was here now, approaching the woman called Mikoto. But why? Who was he, and what business did he have with her?

Though his red eyes stood out amidst the darkness, I could discern little else of his features. He must have been speaking to her, for she replied every so often with pleading eyes and hands clasped in front of her bosom. But then his hand began to emit electric blue sparks, and she knew then to retreat slowly, slowly...

She broke into a sprint through the forest, furiously leaping over fallen tree limbs and decay. An explosive ball of fire flew past her, close enough to have singed her clothes. Unfazed, she continued darting past bushes, below branches. Her robes caught on the spindly limbs; she quickly shed them, now left in a long white tunic.

He didn't run after her. He stopped to untangle a torn robe, held it to his face, as if to inhale the woman's scent. But his red eyes were watching her as she tried to flee from him.

Suddenly, she fell over a thick root, and it was all over. In an instant he was beside her, the collar of her tunic in his hand. In his other he held the blue bolt of lightning, and he raised it to her face. His fingers grazed skin almost lovingly, then ran down the white neck, the curves of shoulder and hip, and along a thigh. She was squirming and screaming in agony because as he touched her, lightning burned through both undergarment and flesh.

The blue rod then pierced her body. It entered and left her slowly at first. Then after a while it seemed that the hand grew impatient, gaining both speed and force as it slammed into her over and over again. Her head was thrown back, and she was shaking violently but unable to do anything. Her strength was failing her. It was evident in the way her struggles were growing more listless, sloppier. The man kept on with more and more vigor, desperate to reach the cusp of some mad passion, ecstasy.

After a final motion, the man pulled away, still holding her at arm's length. The lightning dagger disappeared.

She was dead.

The body hung limply in his hand, and the head lolled over. When he dug his hand into the sternum, he did it with so little effort that it looked like he had only brushed it. The chest gave way easily to his fist. He dug around the hole, searching for something. When he pulled back out, he held in his palm a heart, and he stared at it in grisly fascination. When the wonderment quality had gone stale, his fingers crushed it. A glowing red miasma seeped out of the organ, trailing like smoke into the night sky. When this had been accomplished, he let the juice and tissue slide off his hand and fall onto the ground.

After examining the destruction he had made, he roughly disposed of the carcass with a toss of his other hand. It sunk to the cold ground weightlessly. Its face was horribly red.

In response, my body trembled with the cold fire of my chakra. I could feel the phantom hands quickly release their hold on my ankles, as if burned. The image of the man disintegrated, and the dots disappeared.

It was then that I could raise my head from the water and regain control over my own body. The ripples in the pond bounced in small waves and then smoothed over. Red Face was nowhere to be found.

I left the area quickly after gathering my belongings. For the third time of leaving the site in frantic haste, I could feel eyes that weren't there examining me. I could hear whispered strings of words crocheting in and out of the trees as capriciously as the wind.

* * *

><p>"You're late," Sasuke grumbled, the word "again" hanging on his tongue. Too distraught to acknowledge his complaints, I brushed by him without a word and headed towards my quarters down the stairwell. I wanted to be alone, swathed in between the safety of soft, warm bed sheets, where I could pretend I had seen and heard nothing.<p>

But Sasuke, a man who could not tolerate being ignored, appeared by my side, his slightly miffed expression demanding to elicit a response from me. His huge body obstructed my path. I kept my eyes to the floor.

"You deliberately extended your given time."

I was tired of our antics. He made arguments out of nothing, creating bitterness between us. And I was in no mood to have any of that. But my quiet brooding apparently annoyed him more than a sarcastic comment, for silence on my part meant ignoring him. And again, he hated being ignored. His stern voice affirmed that.

"Answer me."

His face was blurry from behind the angry tears in my eyes. He made no move to react, but I could sense that he was surprised by the tears. "I know you're keeping things from me and I demand to know about them."

"Nonsense."

"Ever since I decided to help you, all you've ever done was treat me like some stupid idiot. How else am I to help you when you refuse to tell me the reasons behind your demands?"

"I had assumed," he said coolly, "that we had already established the terms and conditions concerning the contract."

"You never explained _why_."

"My reasons do not concern you."

"Then why should I assist you? Once you're free, do you intend to kill me? Kill others?"

He chuckled darkly. "And if I confirmed your claims? What would you do?"

I faltered. Was I really that expendable to him? Though my better rationale taunted _"What did you expect, stupid?"_ it could not stop my throat from constricting painfully.

"I... You can't." My voice was weak.

"If I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it already," he said dully. Decoded, his underlying message meant: "No, I do not plan to kill you." And I was relieved.

"But," I began cautiously, "what about other—"

"Other people? I have no business with them," he answered. There was a pause. "Just one."

"Who?"

For a moment he spoke not a word.

"The one who killed my clan. The one who killed me."

I was at a loss of words. Did he mean that metaphorically? Or was he indeed dead?

His words brought back an onslaught of images that flooded my mind: the mountains of corpses from Red Face's memories, their ruptured chests and empty eye sockets, the burning palace...I knew from the Konoha nin's words that the Royals had been wiped out years ago. But never did I consider the details behind that tragedy, much less its direct relation to the prince. I both knew and did not know who Red Face—Mikoto—was. I could still hear her plead to me to _"save him from his hatred."_And now, the more I looked at the prince, the more I understood what it was that Red Face wanted but could never achieve for herself for so long. And I was the only one who knew.

"Revenge... You can't go down that road." The words didn't feel half as strange on my tongue as I had thought.

But the prince was unamused. "Who are you to tell me what I should do?" he said, voice growing louder. "You don't know a thing about me."

"I know more than you think. Hatred will never bring you peace—"

"Enough."

"But I—"

"Shut up!"

Face contorted with rage, he began to breathe heavily as his hulking body began emitting tiny blue sparks. Electric blue chakra encased his hands first but soon covered his entire form, engulfing him from head to toe in lightning. His breaths grew shallow with the labor, but despite his decreasing strength, his eyes remained sharp.

"No," I pleaded, but my voice was lost in the midst of the chakra's crackling. The electric chakra surrounding him had grown to even larger proportions where a single bolt could easily measure more than five feet in length. I shrunk back when one of them had barely made contact with my yukata sleeve. The single spot burned black.

"Sasuke!" I screamed as I found myself pressed against a wall. A surge of warmth flowed through my veins, through skin, and discharged from my body. The subsequent actions happened so fast, I had hardly enough time to process it all:

Blue clashed with blue, temporarily blinding me before the two forces extinguished the other. As our dwindling chakra danced in violent procession, my fist acted on its own and hurtled into the ground, and the crack of wood and rock roared in my ears. I jumped out of the way as I watched the floor split into two ragged parts. It was at that moment that Sasuke had come back down to earth, and I watched the animal in him die as his human returned. Before the jagged line could cut into the ground beneath his feet, he too dodged out of the way and landed onto safe territory.

Both of us watched the splitting of the earth continue on until it had met the perpendicular plane of the wall, breaking its foundation and causing the wall to tremble. Sasuke took my hand and rushed me out of the room. We stood back as we witnessed the destruction of the wing in a matter of seconds. Only when the flying debris had settled and the smoke cleared did we relax. Then all was still.

In spite of all that had happened, I was only preoccupied over how a good portion of the castle was now dust and wood chips.

And it was all my fault._  
><em>

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do—"

The prince held up a hand. "It's fine."

"But—"

"No," he interjected while turning to face me. With a long pause, he spoke slowly and carefully. "It is my fault...Sakura."

Did he seriously admit his mistakes? The almighty, self-righteous prince? And what more, he had called me by name! I didn't remember ever telling him my name, but it was the least of my worries.

He gestured at my sleeve and ankles. The fabric was frayed and black and my ankles scratched raw.

"Oh, it's not your fault," I said, looking down at my abused feet. _Those damn ghosts at the pond..._ "And the dress, well—it's nothing." It really didn't cost me anything anyway. It hadn't been mine to begin with.

"I could have killed you."

"But you didn't," I assured him. Was the reason he cared so much the fact that I was the only one who could free him? Or did he actually care?

Wordlessly, Sasuke shrugged out of his loose shirt. At the prospect of seeing him reveal his naked chest, I fought to contain the blush that heated my face. The embarrassment was short-lived, however, when I spotted with horror a gaping hole in his chest.

"You're not the only one I've signed a contract with," he said.

"I don't understand." I couldn't remove my eyes from the hole. I had seen it before in Red Face's—Mikoto's—memories. Mikoto had been killed brutally, a fist through her chest. And all those eyeless corpses had been killed in a similar fashion.

"Don't you see?" he said. "I need you to break my contract with him. As long as I'm tied to him, I will never be able to avenge my clan."

"But why?" Why did an old contract matter? How did it include me?

"The ninja who imprisoned me here believe that they control me. But that is untrue. The barrier they erected has long since deteriorated. It would inflict little harm on me if I were to step outside of the castle grounds now. The Konoha ninja don't know that, though."

"Then all this time, you could have left?"

"No," he replied. "I remain here under the pretense that I am no longer a threat to Konoha. If I wanted to leave I could, but the ninja would be alerted of my absence. The weak barrier they set up would be disturbed if I were to pass through it, and the ninja would sense it instantly. I don't need that unnecessary trouble."

"But?" I asked, for I knew there was more. "If the barrier isn't imprisoning you, then...?"

"The one who I plan to kill... I signed a contract with him," Sasuke explained with hateful regret. "He controls me. I sold my soul to him."

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary<strong>

**tasukete:** Help!


	10. Damnation

**X. Damnation**

I had so many questions that my lips could not decide which one to ask first—_How did this happen to you? How did your family die?_

_Are you dead?_

"What do you mean by all this?" I asked first. "It just... doesn't make sense."

"Does it matter if it does? Isn't this evidence enough?" By 'this,' he meant the hole in his chest. It was hard keeping my eyes away from that hole, and I kept thinking back to the murder of Mikoto, the murders of the women and men and children who all bore similar wounds.

"I'm just saying this in a logical perspective. Your heart is _missing!_ And now you're saying you sold your..."

His strong hands grasped my thin shoulders and he forced me to look him in the eye. "Logical reasoning is irrelevant. The enemy is not of this world."

"You have to tell me more than just this," I said. "Please." I needed more than just broken truths from different sources. It seemed that everyone was trying to tell me things, but nothing was piecing together.

"You may want to sit down," he said, seating himself on the floor. I followed.

"Is it going to be long?" I watched him bring a finger close to my forehead.

He did not respond immediately. "You could say that."

The moment he pressed the digit against my skin, his pinwheel irises began to spin, pulling me into the depths of a new world.

There were few objects in this void. Among them was a fine, white mist that floated about like a disembodied spirit, its delicate appendages moving lazily in the air. Up above was an exquisite crimson expanse, extending infinitely further than the limits of the sky and galaxies. Hovering in it were two bright entities, piercing through the thick redness like twin suns, but their light did not reach the ground, and there were no shadows.

Without knowing why, I felt one of my feet begin to lift itself and step forward, as did the next. Beneath my feet, there was no ground, and I wondered if one misstep could send me plunging downwards into a bottomless abyss. However, wherever I placed my foot, there would be something to support its weight and propel me back into place. There was no danger here in this realm.

My feet halted in front of a tall door. I didn't have the slightest idea as to what waited behind it, but upon turning the knob and entering, it happened.

_It was the night before the wedding._

No voice had spoken it, I was sure of it. Instead, the information had suddenly come to me. And as new facts, names, and events came, my mind registered them all quickly.

_By royal decree, all citizens were invited as guests. Royal emissaries spoke in across all nations._

_It was said that it was a match made in heaven. The Kaminari were known for their intellect, integrity, and fists that could split the earth with one blow and generate thunder. The Uchiha were revered for their speed, grace, and spinning eyes that could see into the future. By unifying members from each estate, the elders would gain a strong political alliance. And by virtue, when the couple came of age, a new generation of exceptional kin would be bred. They would be the nation's new hope for power, advancement, and protection._

_The two candidates for the union hailed from starkly different factions. She was an orphan taken in by the Kaminari while he was a blue-blood. However, their roots were mutually grounded in the Will of Fire, a philosophy nurtured at an early age in court and school._

An image began to materialize into the shape of a man—tall stature, strong shoulders, slim limbs, sleek hair, light complexion. His black eyes were looking toward me, yet he did not seem to _see_ me. His perfect nose, thin lips, and high cheekbones... all of him was beautiful.

_Betrothed at an early age, the prince had expressed adamant opposition to the idea of marriage to his proposed bride. He found her unworthy of him. As children, her bright hair, shrill voice, and fierce charisma repulsed him. Why couldn't his future wife be a member of his own clan, a traditional beauty who was demure and gentle? He couldn't stand the idea of one day marrying a commoner who often spoke out of turn and crushed boulders for sport. But after his fifteenth moon, things began to change..._

At a distance, the darkness began to dissolve and the interior of an ornate hallway appeared. Silently, I watched lush carpets being unrolled and lanterns being lit. In the distance, the beautiful man was seen walking while absentmindedly spinning the looped end of a dagger around his finger. It seemed that he had a destination, but suddenly, at the sound of two hushed voices, he halted. When he turned the corner, my sight followed his, and both our eyes settled on a new image.

_...He saw his betrothed squatting down to meet the height of a young kitchen boy as they conversed in whispers. _

What he saw, I saw as well. There was indeed a woman who was sitting on her haunches and in front of her a boy. The child obstructed most of her face from view, but I could see a peek of vibrant red and gold silk.

_The boy was looking down at his feet, as was customary for servants in the presence of a superior. But the woman was not concerned with rules. She lifted his chin so that he may look her in the eye. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out some __**anpan**__ sweet buns. These she gave to the starving child, who accepted them hesitantly at first. Upon her insistence, the boy devoured one bun and stuffed the remaining two in his pocket. He bowed before scampering away._

When she arose, it took all the self-control I possessed not to scream.

She was me! The girl was _me—_or at least, a slightly younger version of me... It was like staring into a mirror, yet finding the movements of my reflection out of sync with my own.

_...It was then when his impression of her changed irrevocably, transforming his opinions of her crude speech, bright hair, and flippant tendency to ignore customs._

The image changed to a meeting room, with criss-crossed wooden planks and rice paper and tatami flooring. And there he was again, in all his beautiful perfection. At his side was a taller boy who, had it not been for the deep creases beneath his pretty eyes, closely resembled him. Together, they were speaking to a committee of elders who were seated along a polished table. At the head of the table sat a regal man with a strong jaw, steely eyes, and pursed lips. Beside him was a familiar woman dressed in an elaborate kimono—Mikoto, the Red Face spirit.

"_**Heika**_," said the taller boy softly, "I requested for an assembly and your presence today to discuss matters concerning the Crown."

"Go on," the king replied. "What is it, my son?"

The son drew a long breath. "I wish to relinquish my position as Crown Prince."

There was a collective gasp from the elders. Mikoto covered her mouth with her long sleeve, her eyes wide in surprise. Her husband was infuriated.

"Itachi! What is the meaning of this?"

"Heika, I meant no disrespect."

"Do you not understand the foolishness of your request? Do you plan to throw away years of preparation? Who will replace—?"

"**_Otouto_** will." The man called Itachi seemed quite calm. His beautiful brother merely stared at him, mouth agape.

"Him?" the king scoffed. "Out of the question. Your brother is ill-equipped for war and incapable of handling the country's affairs."

"With all due respect, sire, he has received outstanding marks on all his teachers' reports."

"Itachi **_onii-san_**, Heika, I—" the boy began to sputter, but he was largely ignored.

"Itachi, your nonsense has gone far enough! Whatever your reasons may be, I will not hear another word of it. Your brother cannot—_will not_ take your place. You will accept the throne, and that is final!"

"Please," Mikoto piped up softly. Instead of getting lost in the mix of verbal turbulence, her gentle voice actually caught her husband's attention. "Do not scold them so. They are only children."

"Children? They are approaching the age of manhood! Itachi will be a wedded man soon! And as such, he must uphold his duties with the responsibility of a _man_!" The king directed his attention back to Itachi. "So long as you live on this earth, you will be king!"

The room fell silent.

At long last, Itachi lowered his head in a small bow. "Understood." As he excused himself from the council, Itachi motioned for his brother to follow behind him to exit. And before he slid open the wooden door, Itachi uttered a quiet, "**_Otou-san. Okaa-san._**"

King and Queen both looked started.

"What did you just—"

"Nothing. I wanted to say it just once."

The two brothers made to leave, but the youngest spared a doleful glance at his mother before exiting.

The scene melted away. Again, another wave of information came forth, and then the image of the boy, a bit older now, came into view. Below the shade of a tree, he leaned against its base as he stared at a pond.

_...When the prince was eighteen, he often found himself alone at the summer manor. Here, he could escape the mounting pressures of palace life. The old manor was his safe haven, and the pond amidst the thick woods provided a quiet place to sit by and rest._

_He would never admit it, but he had been hurt by his father's blatant disregard for him. He pondered the meaning of life. What was life? Who was to say what meaning it held, if there was meaning to it at all? The mediocre existence of those who surrounded him, and their pathetic moral obligations, average aspirations, average jobs, dull familial ties—what was the meaning of it all?_

I watched the girl named Sakura approach him. The initial distrust in his eyes mellowed out, and his creased brows unwrinkled as he appraised her. When he noticed the genuine concern in her face, his eyes softened. And when she offered a smile, the slightest twitch of his lips curved into a brief smirk.

_Before he knew it, the elders had proclaimed that the official wedding ceremony would be in a few months. The elders said that it would be the grandest and most beautiful public spectacle that the world had ever witnessed. As pleased as he was, he privately thought that it would be wasteful—after all, he felt that he had married her a long time ago._

_A month before the wedding, there was an incident at the royal training grounds in which a dozen enemy ninja had broken in through the palace security. The masked enemies were ultimately defeated, but the woman had been slashed beneath her right ear. She easily healed herself, though a small scar was still visible._

_People were glad that nothing had happened to the two Crown Jewels, but he was infuriated—her precious blood had been spilled! He berated himself for letting one of the twelve ninja slip away undetected. But above all, he was ashamed of his inability to protect her._

_On many a night he could only recall with dread the incident at the training grounds. He trained day and night, alone. He forbade her from going anywhere unescorted, even while within the palace walls. He made a servant taste her food before each meal, testing it for poison. He had to personally admit visitors who came to see her; he rejected most of them._

_The eve of the wedding, their fight was by far the worst, and it would also be their last._

"You can't control me. I'm not a child!" she had said.

"You are the _**Koutaishi Denka**_ of the Fire Country. Tomorrow, you will be _**Jou Heika**_. You should remember your place and your duties. You act like a child and that is why you deserve these restrictions."

_She left before he could stop her. When he finally ran after her, it was dark out and raining. He found her at the pond, blood covering her hands. The sight alarmed him_—_there was something different about her, a faint sense of hostility and emptiness. But as he pleaded for forgiveness, she responded with unprecedented violence._

"I don't care about your country, your family, or your honor. I never wanted to marry you but your prestige and wealth. I never loved you. "

_In the midst of his confusion, she landed a single blow on him, leaving him severely incapacitated. Then she fled._

_The wedding was called off. Lady Fifth dispatched a search party, but efforts were in vain. The rain from the previous night had washed away any lingering scent that could guide the dog summons. Weeks passed without word of the princess. The young prince detached himself from court life and pined over his physical weakness, but no amount of intense training could satisfy him._

_One day, a cloaked man introduced himself as Hisao. The man claimed that he had heard word of the prince's grief and would offer him immeasurable power, but at a small price: his heart._

_The grisly proposition was no more than words to the prince, for he had lost all will to live. If trading one useless thing would grant him a treasure beyond compare, why should he not do it?_

_The transaction went by in a flash. He could recall feeling mostly numb, save for a dull pain in his chest. For the next few hours, he could not see. His body moved on its own accord, hurdling objects. Then a mass of heat erupted from his throat, fire so hot it burned his lips. His hand grappled the hilt of his sword, and he could feel the blade enter and leave the bodies of panicked citizens. Cries of terror and agony echoed around him. Without the aid of his eyes, his feet began to sprint as men followed his tracks closely.  
><em>

_Then his vision suddenly returned to him, and he saw that he had stopped in front of the summer manor. Uniformed men quickly surrounded the perimeter, erected a barrier, and disappeared into the woods. Only then did he realize the new, cursed form that he possessed._

_In the far distance, above the cragged line of treetops, smoke colored the sky black. The tall palace towers were alight with fire. And he heard the faint but terrible screams of the townspeople resound in the night, much like his own._

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to <strong>**_Eden_**** for leaving me a spectacular review last chapter! Special thanks to my beta ****_wingedmercury!_**

**Glossary**

**Denka:** a title for Crown heirs; Prince, Princess; Your Highness

**anpan:** sweet buns with sweet bean paste

**Heika:** a title for the Crown; King, Queen, Your Majesty

**otou-san:** father

**okaa-san:** mother

**Kotaishi Denka:** Crown Princess

**Jou Heika:** Her Majesty the Queen


	11. Tempest

**XI. Tempest**

A sudden jolt brought me back to the present, where a curious Sasuke sat watching me intently with his red eyes. I felt a little disoriented, but the feeling passed when he removed his finger from my forehead, officially closing the transfer.

"Those were your memories, weren't they?" I said, voice barely more than a whisper. He didn't answer.

Something about our dynamics had shifted. No doubt, my perception of him radically changed. But even as I felt a new sense of compassion for him, it was difficult to adjust to. How could I possibly offer any consolation to a man who had lost his family and country—who had lost himself?

"What will you do?" I finally asked.

"From what I understand," he said, "there are two barriers: one set up by the Konoha nin, and the other by that fiend Hisao. The first one lost its strength shortly after I was sealed here. I presume that that is Hisao's doing."

"What do you mean?"

"I feel that Hisao is behind a larger plot than what is presented before us... namely, concerning the Konoha nin. A barrier becomes ineffective when no caster continuously supplies it with chakra. Therefore, the Konoha barrier is weak due to a lack of chakra. Either the Konoha nin dismantled it of their own volition or Hisao killed them."

"But why would he? What would he gain from killing the ones who kept you in here?"

"Of that I am unsure. But I know that while extracting my heart, Hisao also implanted a second barrier around the castle. Perhaps insurance, a safety precaution. He feels threatened by my existence, yet he enjoys my captivity. I can feel it. I know it. So long as his barrier is stable, I am not a threat to him."

"Well, it's not like he could have placed the seals too far away," I offered thoughtfully. "Do you remember anything that could lead us to them?"

"You forget that it was dark out. I could not see much."

"But don't you suspect that they couldn't have gone far? The barrier was created almost immediately after they found you. I would think that even ninja can't run that fast, let alone a single man."

He took a moment to process the information. "Perhaps. Though I doubt ninja like them would be hindered by distance."

"Well, it's worth testing out. Given the boundaries, I might be able to locate them. Maybe they'll emit a bluish glow or something. If I don't find anything, then I guess—"

"A storm is coming," Sasuke interrupted, head turned to the caved-in south wing, where humid air rolled in through the broken stone and wood. Winds howled to the glowing moon, harbingers of the brewing storm.

Without a word, Sasuke stood up and approached the large crevice, intending to slip outside as the first drizzle misted over the dry land. Soon, the drizzle developed into hard rain, splattering down upon the castle violently.

"What are you doing?" I said, the sound of rushing rain drowning out my voice.

"Just stay back."

Just then a streak of light danced across the black expanse above, briefly coloring the world a blinding silver. A crash broke out, and the echoing rumbles followed and then faded into dying whispers. Sasuke continued walking past the confines of the castle, towards a patch of derelict courtyard.

I had only barely passed through the wall when Sasuke sharply snapped his head around and, in a fierce tone, commanded that I stay back. Meanwhile, his eyes began to bleed red, and his hands crackled with blue sparks. He extended an arm upward, palm facing the sky.

There was another flash and then a rolling crack, this time brighter and louder. Sasuke was not fazed; in fact, it seemed that he enjoyed it. Before the light could disappear within that short second, the Chidori expanded and surged out to the sky, grappling onto the ragged silver bolt. They melted into a union, and then the sky exploded with brilliant color and light.

I took another cautious step. "I don't think—"

"STAND BACK!" came his reply before he redirected his hand toward the surrounding forest.

For several moments, a blinding light surrounded us, powerful enough to rob me of my vision. The sight of trees and rain and rubble immediately vanished behind the white glow that seemed to swallow the earth whole.

A moment later, the light began to recede. Once more, the world returned to its dreary grays beneath the glimmering moon, and the storm continued on. The rain fell much more softly now. The ground, left hot in the wake of Chidori and lightning, sizzled as it drank in the rain and found relief from the thick atmosphere.

Sasuke was no longer standing where he had been before. I panicked, scanning my eyes over the steaming courtyard. It was only when the clouds had finally passed by that I spotted an unmoving heap, laying still in the grass. I rushed to him, not caring when warm mud oozed through my socks and between my toes. I knelt beside him. His damp hair was stuck to his face, his eyes closed. Assessing his injuries, I found none externally, but his chest was deathly still. I shook him by the shoulders, feeling a heavy weight sink deeper in my stomach the more I tried rousing him. What scared me more was not knowing _why_ I felt this way. Trying to understand these new feelings only unsettled me more.

"You are heavy," a ragged voice groaned.

I sat back, afraid that I had misheard it. When his black eyes sleepily blinked open, I was filled with such relief that I sighed. I reasoned that the source of my relief was not having to dispose of a dead body. Nothing more.

"Are those—" There was a cough. "—tears?"

Dumbly, my fingers fumbled from my lap to my cheek. It was wet.

"It was the rain," I answered quickly. The thought of crying for him was ridiculous. It was stupid of him to even suggest such a thing. All at once I became angry. I felt disgusted at myself for my behavior. How could I ever care for him? I had gone soft after seeing his past, a past that, for all I knew, could have been fabricated in an attempt to gain my sympathy. He had manipulated me...and it had worked. When had he begun to seem less like a monster and more like a man? Why did all of this bother me so much?

"What were you doing?" I said as angrily as I could. "Are you crazy?"

"Crazy?" he repeated, insulted. Before he could reply, he fell victim to an unknown pain, his face contorting in discomfort. "I was merely testing something out. The opportunity—" He coughed.

Suddenly tired, I felt the weight of the rain in my clothes and the weight of my anger simmering down to a mild boil. I would argue later... if I had the energy to. In the meantime, I would help him inside the castle. Hoisting him to his feet, I let him wrap an arm around me for support. In small steps, we made it to the castle, passing through the broken walls to dry safety. I was careful to lay him on the floor gently, but every movement seemed to bring him pain.

"Are you alright?" I scanned his body once more, but I could not find any significant injury. No blood, no burns.

"Stop coddling me," he scowled. "I can take care of myself."

"You can't even walk by yourself."

"I am _fine_. I am just depleted of chakra. I simply overexerted myself."

"What kind of a stunt was that?"

"Not a stunt," he rolled his eyes. "An experiment called Kirin. The moment when my chakra and lightning converge, I am at optimum strength. And with it, I can easily obliterate anything in its path."

"You were trying to break through the barrier, weren't you?"

Bitterly, he replied, "The plan would have worked with anything else, yet the barrier was strong enough to absorb the shock. The light was probably the barrier itself, brought to visibility, if only for a moment."

"Then that proves it. If nothing else can break it, then the seals are the only key to breaking the barrier."

"There are no seals."

"Then how—?"

"When I activated Kirin, Sharingan was also at its prime. I could see and feel everything, even in the dark. _Nothing_, then, could have hidden from me. But I could not see or feel any active seal anywhere."

"If there are no seals, how does Hisao's barrier operate? How can it be broken?"

He rose, slowly, pushing his hands off the floor to sit up. A grimace flashed across his face, and he breathed a small curse. When he was situated, he lifted his dark eyes to stare into mine. "You tell me."

* * *

><p>We retired to our separate chambers later that night. After straightening the duvets, I sank into the bed with a contented sigh. It was so unbelievably soft that I struggled not to fall asleep as I considered all that had happened today. Sasuke's words only brought a new wave of worry. Neither of us had any idea how to break the barrier if there were no seals. Everything had been for nothing. Sasuke would never let me go now.<p>

But Mikoto especially troubled me. What exactly did she want me to do for her son? How in the world could I "protect him from his hatred"? If I were to somehow take away his hatred, then would his desire for revenge dissolve? Was that what she wanted? I had already tried once, and that effort had ended in chaos. If only I had the answers...

I eventually drifted to sleep, but it was short-lived. I awoke suddenly and sat up in bed, a sharp sense of alarm nagged at me. I couldn't fathom why I felt so uneasy.

The room was mostly dark, but in the dim candlelight, I could make out the rough shapes of the vanity mirror and bureau, the desk, and the scrolls in the corner of the room. Nothing seemed to be out of place. Still, I could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Needing reassurance, I concentrated directing a small amount of chakra to my eyes as I scanned the room. To my relief, I did not spot even a hint of another person's chakra signature. I was alone.

I don't know exactly how long I sat there. The ongoing silence and stillness should have comforted me, but my suspicions were not allayed.

Unsettled, I quickly exited my chambers. Now in the dank corridors, I began to pad down the stone floors. The flickering torches burned orange amidst the blackness. The shadows they cast danced along the jagged rock interior, and on more than one occasion I had imagined seeing the silhouette of a person following me. But when I turned around to confront the pursuer, only the dancing shadows were there to greet me.

Why was I behaving like this? There was nothing there!

I hastened to reach the study. It was only a few feet ahead, and from here I could see its door left ajar. Sasuke must be in there. He'd know what to do—

"What are you—"

I spun around, startled, and let out a shriek. The sound must have been pretty loud, because I found Sasuke pulling an unpleasant face.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I couldn't sleep."

He wasn't convinced. "You're shaking."

Was I? I looked at my hands. They _were _shaking.

"Just a little cold, is all."

"Go back to bed."

"Okay," I assented, slowly. But I made no move to head back in _there_.

He sighed. "Are you going to make this difficult for the both of us?"

"No," I shook my head. "It's just..." I trailed off, wary of telling him my reasoning. He stood waiting for my response, but I denied him one. "Nothing. Good night."

As I rushed off and hid my burning cheeks, I felt his hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"It's nothing!" I moved away but stopped again when I caught the unmistakable glint of a dagger that he held in his hand. "What are you doing?"

Silently, he approached me, but it seemed like he was trying to conceal the dagger from view. He didn't respond to my whispered inquiries. It didn't even look like he was listening. His eyes distant and blank, I could not figure out what I had done to anger him. When he finally motioned to throw the weapon, I flinched, hoping by chance that he would miss his target.

But when I heard a sharp gasp and a dull thud sound behind me, I realized that killing _me _hadn't been his intention at all. One second Sasuke was looming over me; the next, he was beside the crumpled form of a man clad in black gear. The dagger had lodged itself in the man's chest, and I could tell from the quick pooling of blood that it was no mere flesh wound.

Sasuke grabbed the man by the collar and pushed him into the jagged wall, and for a moment I remembered when I had been in the man's place my first night at the castle. I stood by, shaken and unsure of what to do.

"Who are you?" murmured Sasuke, his cold tenor bordering on a hostile snarl. When the man only groaned in response, Sasuke tightened his grip. "Who. Are. You?"

The man weakly lifted his head and stared defiantly into Sasuke's eyes. When the man drew a breath, he violently coughed out a glob of bloody saliva. In a coarse, haggard voice, he hotly spat, "Monster."

"Wrong answer," Sasuke said, and with his free hand he drove the dagger deeper into the man who grit his teeth to bear the pain.

The scene was too much. With every push Sasuke forced the blade into his victim, and with every grunt of pain that followed, I grew more and more mortified.

"Stop it," I started to protest.

"Shut up." Sasuke loosened his grip on the dagger, intending to keep the man alive long enough to answer his questions. Directing his full attention to the man once more, he proceeded with the interrogation. "If you value your life, you will cooperate."

"You're a fool," coughed the man. "You thought that no one would notice that blast of lightning in your attempt at escape? The whole village has seen it. My comrades are coming for you."

"Who sent you?"

"Our gracious Lord," the man replied. The blood had soaked through his shirts and had trickled red rivulets down his legs, where they dripped off his feet and onto the stone floor. "He wants you dead. The whole kingdom wants you dead. Your severed head will be put on a stake, your body thrown into the incinerator and—"

Sasuke thrust the remaining hilt of the dagger through the man's chest in one swift motion, forever silencing him. When Sasuke removed his grip from the collar, the body fell to the floor, a sack of bones.

"Oh god," I breathed in disbelief. "What have you done?" My breaths came out in nervous gasps as I struggled to compose myself, but the corpse's black, black eyes peered up at me from the floor. And the blood was everywhere...

"He was an assassin."

"But you killed him!"

"He would have tried to kill the both of us," he growled in defense.

"This can't be happening..." I moaned in frustration.

"Accept reality for what it is! This is the world we live in, whether you like it or not. It was our lives or his. And if we wait any longer, we may not have even that option."

Shouts erupted from above. Both of us glanced toward the source of the noise, realizing that the assassin's men had finally caught up to him. It wouldn't be long before they would spiral down the staircase, find their slain comrade, and then come for us.

"What do we do?" I whispered, unable to keep from glancing at both the end of the passage and Sasuke.

"We?" Sasuke repeated, and for a moment he appeared as confused and troubled as a lost child. He looked tired, his eyes dull and rimmed with red. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he struggled to come up with a plan. For the first time, it seemed like he had none.

The men were nearing. The sound of their boots pounding against stone echoed loudly.

Sasuke snapped his attention back to me, eyes steeled with certainty. "Run away." Something about his voice indicated that he didn't mean the both of us.

The drumming in my chest stopped. I knew I had heard him clearly, but I still could not understand. Too shocked to speak, I kept silent.

"The uchiwa in your pocket," he said, "activate it with chakra. Imagine yourself outside of the castle and deep in the forest. Flee as far away as you can and don't come back. Do you understand me?"

My hands trembled as I felt for the fan. It was warm, humming with a power I had failed to notice before.

Sasuke touched my shoulder. "Do you understand me?"

I found my voice. "You're letting me go? Why?"

There was a flicker of sadness in his expression, but it disappeared quickly. "We are all slaves to something." He activated Sharingan with a single blink. Blue sparks surrounded his hand, growing larger and stronger by the second. "You are free."

I hesitated, waiting for him to continue. When he saw that I still had not left, his lips curled into a snarl. "Leave! Now!"

His Sharingan eyes were the last things I saw before I reluctantly shut my own and followed through with the procedure. As I pulsed a thin stream of chakra through my fingers and into the fan, I envisioned the pond and the surrounding forest. When I opened my eyes, I found myself rushing past dark trees and wild growth, fleeing farther and farther away from the castle. I did not look back.

* * *

><p><strong>Note: <strong>Hisao is not Gizou. Just to make that clear. I know I mentioned these two characters only a few times, but it was brought to my attention that some people couldn't differentiate the two. Gizou is the old guy Sakura met with the other Konoha nin. The shadowy Hisao is possibly the evil bastard behind Sasuke's problems. You will see more of each as the story goes.


	12. Dusk

**XII. Dusk**

As I blindly tore through the woods, branches clawed at my body, leaving my skin ablaze with scratches. Some limbs caught my hair in their gnarled fists, slowing me down. Why was I running? What was I running from?

I had only little time to consider my next move when I felt cold metal press against my neck. Inwardly, I cursed myself for my carelessness. How could I have been so stupid as to ignore my surroundings?

"You are in unauthorized territory, violation of Code Six," stated a man. His voice was muffled beneath some covering. "You must be reported to the Base."

"The Base?" I said, not liking the sound of things. The cold blade remained pressed to my neck.

"We must detain you for questioning. If you comply, there will be no prob—"

With a fierce cry I jabbed my elbow into his stomach and ground my heel into his foot. Granted, I couldn't see much of anything, but by some luck I had managed to land every hit. Following his grunts of pain, he temporarily removed the knife from my neck, and I took the opportunity to kick in his general area for good measure. The sole of my foot met flesh with a hard, satisfying impact.

Unfortunately, he had not come alone: two pairs of hands roughly latched onto my arms and pushed me back into a tree.

"Detain her," barked the leader. Promptly following his orders, one his men momentarily loosened his grip on me, only to slap a clothed hand on my mouth. A pungent fragrance pervaded my nostrils and left its saccharine taste on my tongue. Though I struggled viciously with my captors, I could feel my strength leave me with every passing moment.

"Since you've made it so difficult," ground out the leader, his voice laced with bitterness, "I will personally see to your heightened sentence—"

His threat suddenly broke off into a muffled cry and then—silence. The two ninja beside me gasped in confusion and barely had time to exchange their thoughts on the matter when they, too, one by one, let out pained grunts, relinquishing their hold on me. The squadron grew deathly quiet. Was it all just a ploy? Were they still there, waiting in the darkness, preparing for attack as soon as I had let down my guard?

These thoughts swirled in my head even as I crashed onto the cold ground. With what little strength I had left, I could faintly sense my small chakra reserves flare weakly to keep me awake.

From a distance, I could hear someone approaching me, the sound of his footsteps rustling softly against the grass. With dread sinking into my stomach, I realized it was indeed one of the ninja, having feigned stillness in order to collect me in my weakest moment.

My last shred of consciousness waned as the ninja stopped near me. And then... nothing._  
><em>

* * *

><p>I awoke when I heard a woman's voice gently prodding me to open my eyes. Not only that, but an incredible warmth wrapped around me, setting me at ease as I lifted my heavy eyelids.<p>

The first thing I noticed were the verdant stalks of grass in close proximity to my face. It took a moment for me to realize that I was lying on the ground. Hastily, I rose, only to gasp at the sight of the wildflowers, covering the hillside in breathtaking rainbows of color. There was a softness to the light all around, stretching into the infinite expanse above.

Soft titters sounded beside me. "Are you gonna stare at the scenery all day, Forehead?"

My breath hitched in my throat. No... It wasn't possible...

But upon turning to face the woman and seeing her long golden hair, her clear blue eyes, and her familiar pink smirk, I could feel tears spring to my eyes. The sunshine surrounding her made her skin appear more radiant than ever, swaddling her in a delicate halo of light. There was a crown of yellow flowers—she called them _**yamabuki**_, I distinctly remember—atop her head, and in her hands was a chain of vibrant violet petals that glistened with dew.

"Well," she said, all the while continuing her work with the purple chain, "say something. I hate when you get all teary-eyed, Forehead. I thought you said crying was for babies?"

"Ino?" I managed to choke out. "Am I..."

"Why do you look so weird? Aren't you glad to see me?"

"I—of course I am!" I exclaimed, unable to contain myself. "Is this—where is this? Where are we?"

She stopped working on the wreath, throwing it over her shoulder lackadaisically. "This is where I belong, Sakura. The shop was way too cramped. I'm glad I got out of there—Dad was driving me crazy with filling out orders. Here, you want one?" From her pocket, she pulled out a bracelet of delicate _**yukiyanagi **_and shoved it into my hand.

"What is this place?" I said, distracted by the dainty white bracelet. It must have taken her at least an hour to string them so perfectly. I slipped it on, admiring the tiny petals.

"It's great here, isn't it?" she sighed happily. "No one to bother me. Never a breeze to mess up my hair as I work. Never rains, but it's never too dry here. The sun's not too hot, either. Just perfect." She paused. "I just wish there was a handsome guy to keep me company once in a while, but Shika absolutely detests 'girly stuff.' I suppose modern men will never come to appreciate the sophistication that is _**ikebana**_. Then again, I'm not one for ancient flower arranging, too. It's way too severe and simple. I'd much prefer a huge bouquet of arrangements, just bursting out of their vases."

"Ino," I said, voice on the brink of cracking, "_where_ am I?"

Her eyes flickered over me, only to settle back onto the scenery before us. "Well, honestly, I'm not really sure. I've been here for a while. I've been told that when people separate from their chakra, they end up somewhere they want to believe in until they are ready to go. It's like an alternate world, or something. Something of a memory, or a dream, or an unfulfilled wish that you can't forget."

"What the hell are you talking about? You're not—" I spluttered before gasping. I pointed at Ino. "Your neck—"

Ino had tossed her long hair out of her face, revealing a monstrous gash that stretched along her jaw and across her neck. Nonchalantly, she placed a hand to the wound, removing it to inspect the blood on her fingers.

"Oh, this?" she muttered, not bothered in the least.

But I was not convinced. "Are you okay?"

"It's just a little scratch. Not a big deal."

"Are you crazy, woman? I can practically see the inside of your throat! You have to get it patched up—"

"Sakura," she said in a hard voice. "You don't understand at all. The world is full of danger, yet here—" she said, raising her hands to marvel at the landscape, "there is never any danger. You don't feel pain. People don't hurt you, or rather, they can't. They don't. They don't have any chakra to use against each other. It's kind of weird at first, but then you start to realize how peaceful it is. I'd tell you, oh _ye _of little faith, to verify this with Shika and Chouji, but they're not here."

"Where are they?" I asked hesitantly, keeping my eyes from landing on her neck again.

"Eh. As far as I'm concerned, Shika's probably lazing about on a floating roof, and Chouji in a landfill of _**kalbi**_. Or maybe they've left already."

"How are they? And Mom? How is she doing? Have you spoken to her?"

"They're doing great," she replied, tone flat. "And yeah, I finally met your mom a while ago. She looks just like you. She said she loves you."

"I miss her, too. I've missed you all so much! Oh god, I dunno what the hell just happened, or where I've been, or how I got back here but—it's been so long! I must have worried you all so much. I just—" I broke off, stopping to catch my breath, but all that came out was a broken sob. "I'm so happy to be back home."

Ino placed a hand on my shoulder, her expression solemn. "Don't worry about us, Sakura. We're fine. We've always been fine. We're just concerned about you."

"I'm so sorry," I said, feeling my throat constrict painfully. "I'm so sorry for making you all worry."

"It's okay, really. But you know, you've got bigger things to worry about."

"What do you mean?"

For a moment, Ino did not respond. Suddenly she turned to me with a gleam in her blue eyes. "Do you remember the time we first met, practically while we were still in diapers? And after my dad introduced me to you, we hung out a lot downtown during the summer months? And we met up with Shika and Chou, and we did all sorts of crazy things together? You hated coming to the festivals, but I always got you to go anyway." She paused, waiting for a nod of acknowledgment.

Oddly enough, I couldn't remember at all. All I felt was a strange hollowness as I tried to rack my brain for those memories.

Ino continued nonetheless, unperturbed. "And you were always so studious and hardworking, preferring work at the hospital over celebrating the _**Obon **_season. But even though I teased you for being a major fun-spoiler, I always admired you for your work ethic and strength. But I wasn't the only one who noticed your spirit—your new family, and even the Royals, discovered it earlier than me!" She grinned, but slowly it began to fade. "You always complained about how hard it was in the palace, and how that jerk of a fiancé drove you crazy. And you always told me how much you missed the simple life."

Her words failed to induce any recollection of the matter, a feeling that was disconcerting and troubling all at once.

"Sakura," she said, staring up dreamily at the pure white sky, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me. Shika, Chou, all of us—we regret not having protected you. The guards wouldn't permit us to come in because of the tightened security. The war was pulling us apart. But you had to deal with everything by yourself."

"Ino," I began to say, but she stopped me before I could finish my question.

"No, Sakura," she begged, tears in her eyes, her voice strained. Just watching her break down made me tear up once again as well. "Just accept our apology, please. I need to hear it from you before I go. I want to make sure everything between us is perfect, just as it had always been."

"Ino, you didn't do anything," I insisted. "What are you apologizing for? You're not making any sense!"

"You'll remember, soon enough. I'm personally giving you the first bit of truth that you need to hear. Promise me you'll save people who need to be saved. Chase things that you normally wouldn't. Remember the past, but think about the present. And promise me you'll always look to the future."

I grew frustrated. "What the hell are you talking about? Why won't you just tell me what's wrong?"

Ino was adamant. "It isn't my place to tell you. Just promise me those things."

It was all I could do not to shake her out of irritation. But as I watched her broken expression, all I wanted was to erase it from her face and take the pain away. I just wanted my old friend back, even if that meant mindlessly agreeing to whatever she wanted.

I sighed a defeated, "Fine. I promise."

She offered a small smile before rising to her feet. Wiping off the grass from her dress, she said, "It's about time I leave now." Ino was looking towards the sky at the top of the hill.

"Wait, what?"

"We'll always be there for you, Sakura, no matter what. We all believe in you. We'll be waiting for that day when we all meet again. It'll be like old times. The simple days. I'll make sure of it." With a final smile, Ino turned away and began to ascend up the hill, making her way towards a pinnacle of blinding light.

"Ino!" I cried out, alarmed. "Ino, where are you going? Wait for me!" I desperately fought my way up the hill but found myself slipping off the steep slope. My feet could get no traction, and as I continually fell down the hill, I watched Ino retreat further and further away.

"It's not time for you yet, Sakura."

When Ino finally reached the crest, her silhouette was merely a faint outline against the harsh light. She didn't stop to wave a farewell when the light expanded all around her, glimmering gold. Before I knew it, she was gone.

Tears of frustration ran down my face. Why couldn't I go with her? Why wouldn't she let me follow her? "Fuck you all for leaving me! Damn you, Ino. _Damn _you!"

A voice broke out amidst the stillness: "...coming to..."

"Ino?" I surveyed the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, to no avail. The whiteness of the landscape was darkening quickly now.

"...up..."

"Ino! Where are you?" The world had grown very dark, but I was still looking for her.

There was a sharp nudge on my side. "Wake up." It was man's voice.

"Wow, I thought she was a goner. Good thing you knew a thing or two about medical stuff." It was another man's voice, yet not as smooth.

Another nudge brought me to reality, and with a gasp, I finally woke up. Ino was gone, so was the hill of flowers. It was all just a dream... But where was I? And why was I so sore? When I sat up, I felt the unmistakable metal coils of a mattress press against my back, groaning from the weight.

In staggering waves, it all came back to me: the infiltration, the enemy squadron, the fight. If I had been drugged, then that must mean that I was now—

"Shit," I muttered in a panic.

"Whoa, what's the deal here?" said a man with a hint of amusement. In the darkness, I could make out two broad shapes walking towards me.

"Stay away!" I faltered. The weak candlelight beside me did not provide much comfort; I felt so vulnerable in the dark.

"Hey, don't worry. We won't hurt you—much." The man chuckled.

"Be quiet," said a second man, whose calm, cold voice commanded authority. The first man's chuckles died abruptly. Had it not been for the gravity of the situation, I might have laughed.

The two figures drew near closer to the light. I was surprised to see two men dressed in all black attire, their faces concealed behind two masks of a crow and a wolf.

"I said stay away!"

"Relax, woman," said the Crow. It was he who possessed the smooth voice. "We will not harm you. My partner only meant to jest with you."

"Yeah, sorry. Didn't think that would freak you out so much," apologized the Wolf. "I would've thought you'd have a better sense of humor than that."

"Who are you people? Where am I?"

"You want the long or short answer?" asked the Wolf. "Eh, I'll just give you the short answer: We pretty much saved your ass from _**Kobun**_."

"_Kobun_?" I shrieked. Those despicable police officers, the ones who had beat that poor child in the village—the Kobun had been the ones in the forest? Did that mean that Sasuke had killed a Kobun? More importantly, were more of them coming to attack the castle?

"You're _wel_come," quipped the Wolf.

The Crow elaborated coolly, "We happened upon you in the Royal Forest, where you were detained by government Kobun. We eliminated them and brought you here."

"Yeah," agreed the Wolf, "and good thing we did, otherwise you might have ended up becoming one of their sex sla—"

"Enough," said the Crow, stunning the Wolf into silence. "You are frightening her."

"She'd still be pissing her panties even if I didn't say anything," the Wolf muttered.

"The Kobun drugged you for easy capture," continued the Crow, "but I managed to stabilize your chakra system. There are still small remnants of the drug circulating in your blood, so you may feel some aftereffects for a short while."

"How do I know that you're telling the truth, that you two aren't the so-called Kobun?"

"You think we'd waste our time fixing you up if we were gonna bring you to the Base and torture you?" the Wolf scoffed.

"I assume that you are unfamiliar with the Kobun," speculated the Crow.

"No—I mean no, I do—"

"Pardon the interruption," said a soft, feminine voice. A slim figure stood by the entrance, which was nothing more than a large crevice in the stone wall. I couldn't see her face very well from my position. "_**Kami**_-_**sama **_summons you."

"Who? Me?" The Wolf pointed to himself.

"Yes."

"Now?" There was a whine in his voice.

"Yes. He seeks your presence."

"Gee, didn't know I was so loved. Didn't think he swung that way."

The woman was not amused and ignored his remark. "You are to report your findings to him."

"But what about him?" the Wolf pointed at the Crow.

"No, Kami-sama specifically ordered for me to retrieve you only."

"Ugh. I hate traveling. It's gonna take at least two days to get there."

"Go," the Crow told the Wolf, "don't keep him waiting."

"But the girl—" the Wolf looked at me.

"I will take care of her. Now leave."

Begrudgingly, the mumbling Wolf departed from my bedside and retreated into the shadows with the woman...

...leaving me alone with the Crow. I didn't know exactly what it was, but the Crow just gave me the creeps.

Limbs aching, I shifted in the bed, but the mattress coils creaked from the motion. I hid an awkward blush behind my hair; the silence was unbearable.

"How are you feeling?" the Crow finally spoke up, surprising me.

"A little sore," I confessed meekly, suspicious of his intentions.

"You are quite vocal in your sleep."

"Vocal?" My cheeks grew hot. I wondered what embarrassing things I had muttered aloud unconsciously.

"Something about '_**ino... shishi**_'?" he guessed.

Ino... _What were you trying to tell me?_

Tears began to prickle in the corners of my eyes, but I tried to be discreet in wiping them away.

The Crow noticed, though. "Something troubles you."

Did he expect me to tell him? "Um..."

But the Crow understood my hesitation and said, "You need not speak of it if you wish."

Though scary, at least he wasn't nosy. And for that, I was grateful. "Where am I?"

"That is classified information."

"Should I be concerned about this?"

"No."

_Well that's comforting_. "Then at least tell me why you saved me."

The Crow drew near towards the candle, lifted a corner of his mask, and blew a small stream of fire onto the wick. I watched, entranced by the the dying flame as it regained vitality and burned brightly. Satisfied, the man secured his mask back on. "The others here are unaware of your identity, save for myself."

"You _know _who I am?"

"You were selected as the next heir, alongside the prince."

"Oh," I breathed, my hopes deflating. He really didn't _know _who I was, after all. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not the princess."

"Of course not. You are still just a consort, Miss Civilian _**Hidenka**_. You never actually married the prince, after all."

"No, that's not it," I shook my head. "I am not _her_. I am not Kaminari."

"Then who might you be?"

"Haruno. Haruno Sakura."

He let out a soft chuckle. "But of course: an amusing alias for the woman with distinct, roseate hair."

_He's never gonna get it,_ I thought bitterly. _There's no use in trying to tell him otherwise._

The Crow reached into his pants pocket to produce a small fan. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was the uchiwa, the tear still intact.

"How did you—?"

"I believe this is yours. You must have dropped it in the forest," he said before handing it to me. He then motioned to leave, but he abruptly stopped in his tracks. "Few know this fact, but the Uchiha normally bestow gifts such as this to those who they deem worthy. But this uchiwa is crafted with the highest honor by the greatest royal artisan. Whoever presented this to you did not just deem you _worthy_—he considered you his other half."

My heart fluttered at his words. Could Sasuke... No. It was silly to think that Sasuke would regard me so highly. He had only given it to me as a sort of navigational and defense mechanism. He only needed me to fulfill my promise to him. Had it not been the case, he could have cared less.

"I've left you a meal to regain your strength. Remain here and rest," said the Crow. "You will need it."

"Wait!"

He turned, waiting.

"Thank you." For what exactly, I wasn't sure. But he understood my sentiment and nodded. "And, um, what's your name?"

"You may call me Aki." There was a small pause. "Charming bracelet you have there." He departed from the room, his long hair trailing behind his head in a slim ponytail.

Bracelet?

I checked my wrist, shocked to find the string of yukiyanagi there as white and fresh as snow.

* * *

><p>It turned out that the place Aki had brought me to was an underground post of his organization <em><strong>Yuuyami<strong>_. The rock tunnels of the post were deep beneath the surface and stretched for miles. He didn't exactly tell me where this place was located, but I supposed that was part of the whole secrecy thing.

"This passage leads to the resting room." Aki said mechanically. I nodded in assent. "Stay away from those passages over there. They are the private chambers of the others."

"Are there many of them here?"

"A few. Some have defected, others were killed."

"_Killed_?"

"They died in this foolish war, but they died with purpose, with honor."

"Aki-san, what is this war all about?" I knew from what Gizou and Tsunade had told me that it had to do with Sasuke, or the 'beast' as they unwittingly called him. The one named Hisao, the one who had tricked Sasuke, was behind it all; I just knew it. Yet I also knew there had to be more that the Konoha nin were holding from me.

"About? It is not _about_ anything. Regardless of whether there is a victor, in the end both parties are embittered and seek vengeance. They are virtually slaves to the past. And I am no exception," he spat out with venom. "This war is _about_ nothing. Rather, it _is _a crusade against the biggest fool the nations had the misfortune of confronting."

Aki's hands had collected into tight, quivering fists. There was something personal behind his anger, something that surpassed typical anti-war sentiment expected from any normal man.

"Aki-san," I said tentatively. "You hold something against this person, don't you? He did something to you."

I knew he struggled with himself, though there was little indication of it. His inability to respond was proof enough of my speculation. I just hoped that he could forgive my nosiness.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, my face downcast. "I shouldn't have—"

"Yuuyami stands for all that is true. Dusk reminds us that no matter the hour, light will always emerge. Lies cannot be kept in the dark forever." Aki stopped momentarily, as if in a daze. "The woman I loved said that once."

His usage of the past-tense was sufficient. It was clear to me what he had lost.

"And you," Aki turned to regard me. "You must be searching for him."

"Who?"

"Why, the one you love. Your betrothed, I presume."

I blushed. "No, he isn't betrothed to me."

"'He?' Your mere mentioning of this person must mean that you do hold someone close."

"No," I denied again. "It isn't like that at all. He doesn't care for me. And I don't for him, either..."

"I think otherwise," he said, dropping his voice to a quiet hum. "You see, I am aware of the passions of Sasuke _**Denka**_, that savage monster you call prince. I've watched you both for some time now, you see."

I stumbled backwards, but he placed a hand on my shoulder, keeping me steady—or perhaps keeping me from running. I peered up at his mask. The Crow's black eyes stared back.

"And I know that you will do anything to keep him out of harm's way, anything that I command you to do." His grip tightened. "Isn't that right, Sakura Denka?"

* * *

><p><strong>Glossary (in order of appearance)<strong>

_**yamabuki: **_yellow mountain rose (I'm not too sure if that is correct; if someone knows more about flowers, feel free to correct me.)

_**yukiyanagi: **_snow willow; small white flowers

_**ikebana: **_art of flower arranging

_**kalbi: **_Korean BBQ short ribs; AKA—Chouji's favorite food.

_**Obon: **_As mentioned in chapter one, a festival commemorating the dearly departed.

_**Kobun: **_cohort, assistant, accomplice, follower. I didn't think using English words to describe the bad ninja did them justice.

_**Kami-sama: **_god

_**inoshishi:**_ pig. Ino's name "derives" from this. Aki, however, has no idea that "Ino" is indeed a name and confusedly assumes that Sakura was referring to the animal counterpart. Haha.

_**Hidenka: **_title addressed to the royal consort

_**yuuyami: **_dusk

_**Denka: **_"Your/His/Her Royal Highness"


	13. Passion

****XIII. Passion****

He pushed me against a wall, the impact so hard that cold rock cut through my thin yukata and grazed flesh. A flaming torch rattled in its metal sconce above, the wavering light casting orange reflections on the Crow's mask.

"How did you—?" I choked out, struggling to catch breath.

"Valuable information can be obtained through reading body language alone."

A reprimanding Sasuke came to mind. During training sessions, he had always warned me to suppress emotions during battle, to reveal nothing to the enemy. But I had ignored his words, dismissing them as a fuss over nothing. My throat constricted tightly, painfully.

"What do you want?" I said, fighting to keep my voice from wavering too much.

"Information. But I tire of idle talk."

There was a quick flicker of movement, followed by a loud scrape of metal. There were two small knives in his hand, held dangerously close to my neck.

"I know who the prince is. I can recognize any royal's chakra signature as clearly as I can recognize my own. But answer me this: where is he?"

"I-I don't know."

It was the truth, but my breathlessness might have seemed to him an indication of nervous dishonesty. But if Aki could sense Sasuke's presence, why was he asking me of his whereabouts? Perhaps Sasuke had escaped the castle and traveled far away, so far that his presence was too faint for detection? Or maybe Sasuke hadn't survived the scuffle, and therefore... No, I couldn't bear to think it.

"And your motive for assisting him?"

Truly, what was my motive? In hindsight, there had been no guarantee from the beginning that either Sasuke or I would get what we wanted. And as time passed, it grew obvious that there was no simple solution. There were no seals to be broken. There was probably no way back home.

Aki tipped his head. "I suppose that was a useless question. An orphaned country bumpkin like you would cling to whatever shred of affluence that remained in the midst of social collapse. But if that is so, why did you leave in the first place?"

"I've told you already," I hissed. "I don't know."

"I assure you, I am not an enemy, but I am not to be trifled with."

"Then make an enemy of me. I have nothing to tell you!"

For a while, only the quiet snap of the torches broke the silence of the cave.

"Very well," came the reply.

He pulled away. Two thick chains burst from the rock walls and pulled me backward, my arms stretched open and held taut. Struggling against the bonds only seemed to aggravate the situation, for they only clenched harder around my wrists.

"Your bold theatrics is admirable," said Aki, "but it wastes my time. I know that underneath that brave façade of yours exists a wish, much like mine, for new beginnings. The reestablishment of justice and peace. Security. Free will. But sacrifices must be made in order to achieve those things."

"What kind of sacrifices? Laying blame on the prince for all of your suffering?"

"I never blamed him for everything," he answered patiently. "But I realize that he was instrumental in the tyrant's plans. A building cannot be built without a tool, no matter how skilled the contractor may be. By removing the tool, the contractor cannot build. Hence, his project is stalled."

Hot blood rushed to my face. "So what are you saying?"

"I originally planned to have the prince under constant surveillance, kept away from the world within his prison so that no one could use him for evil purposes. But I imagine that the tyrant was quite alarmed after seeing the blue light shoot through the sky. So, he sent his henchmen to slip through the barrier and eliminate our little trouble-making prince. My partner and I rushed to the site just in time, only to find you in the Kobun's path. After ridding you of those pests, we arrived at the castle, only to find the barrier broken, and burnt corpses lying everywhere."

I swallowed. "Is he—?"

"We have not found his body. If he survived the attack, then he has probably escaped. He has become a threat to society, one that must be...dealt with swiftly."

My voice barely lifted above a panicked whisper: "You want to kill him."

"I prefer keeping my hands clean, but, as they say, the ends justify the means. If it is for the good of mankind, it shall be done no matter the cost."

"You can't kill him! He's your prince!"

"Was," Aki corrected. "He was our prince. But because of him and his stupidity, he was manipulated by a madman. Good men and women were killed. Ninja cease to exist in the world above. Only the weak and spineless were spared and remain, toiling in the fields, shuffling around with their menial tasks just to get by and survive. They earn nothing for their labor but whippings and spoiled bread. Yet even as they suffer and watch their friends die before their eyes, they do nothing. They are incapable of fighting back, so they don't. That is why the mission rests in my hands. There is no other way."

"But killing the prince? What will that benefit you?" I cried, still struggling against the bonds. They were cutting into my wrists now. My arms tingled and ached from being held up for so long.

"As far as we know, he could still be under the tyrant's influence. I cannot allow the risk of setting him free and endangering any more lives."

"But he's not like that! He wouldn't do that!"

"How are you so sure?"

"Because I know him," I answered, with more certainty than I had ever known. It sounded foolish even to me, but somehow I believed in Sasuke. His early life had been dedicated to earning the recognition of his king and queen, the respect of his court, and the love of his bride. He wasn't perfect, of course. Far from it. He was rude, temperamental, confusing, and occasionally prone to some violent tantrums...all of which had put me into some kind of danger. And the blood on his hands would never disappear for as long as he lived.

But since our first encounter, everything he had done for me outweighed the lingering fear that he might regress to his old ways. In light of recent events, I doubted that the self-hatred that had been borne from his weakness would ever consume him again. He had essentially terminated our contract the moment he demanded that I flee the castle. But it didn't matter that I didn't understand everything he did. I trusted he would overcome whatever control Hisao held over him. Everything depended on it.

Aki only scoffed. "Know him? I think there is more to it than just knowing his intentions, Miss Sakura **_**Hidenka**_**." He dropped his voice to a low murmur. "You love him."

Flustered by the same allegation as before, I didn't know what to say. The Crow found my silence so amusing that he tipped back his head and laughed.

"No agreement, no denial? I should have expected as much from you. That's enough for today." He turned his head and stared into the shadows. "Come out, one of you."

The darkness shifted to reveal a man donning a black uniform and the mask of a grinning skeleton. He slunk toward our way, watching me the whole time. Two black hollows had been painted where his eyes should be.

"I shall be leaving for business. Watch over this girl until I return."

"What's this little mouse doing here?" said the Skeleton. There was a slight rasp in his voice, one that I found as unsettling as his painted grin.

"She is a guest who you will supervise during my absence. If I hear of anything out of place, you will be held responsible."

"Of course," said the Skeleton, dipping forward in a slight bow.

Aki, not at all miffed by the mocking gesture, merely turned on his heels and left, the sound of his footsteps gradually receding to nothing.

"He never leaves that quickly. I guess the Kobun really messed you up in the head."

I glared, though my eyelids felt heavier than ever before. My vision bleared, and for a moment I saw two Skeleton faces grinning at me, side by side, until they converged into one. "I'm not crazy."

"That's what they all say." The Skeleton cracked his neck, left and right. "Well, I don't really know the situational details, but then again, I don't really care. I'm just here to do my job."

"And your job is...what? Psychologically torturing me? Placing a cage of carnivorous rats near my face?"

"Jeez, you're a weirdo aren't you?" He leaned against a stone wall, arms crossed. "My job—for now at least—is to watch you eat, sleep, and shit. The last 'guest' I had to watch over had a little flute, and the prick wouldn't stop playing it. Day and night. Do you know how quickly a guy can go insane from hearing a damn flute echoing in the halls? Don't answer that. Well anyway, I wouldn't torture you even if I could. It isn't my job."

I frowned, though his words should have lent me some relief. If it wasn't his job, whose was it?

"I dunno why you're getting all upset over this. It's not like we did anything bad to you. Sounds like we even saved you from the clutches of those dirty Kobun."

"Saving a person and then chaining her to a wall isn't something to brag about."

"Touché. But really, we're not villains. Ain't our fault that the ninja arts are outlawed—ain't our fault we can't find a place to practice them, except underground. You're not the only one who's suffering in the dark, hon."

I kept quiet, attempting to feign indifference to the matter. I had already heard it multiple times from different mouths. Hearing it again only reminded me of the terror that existed above ground: The eerie silence of the streets, the tall smoke towers, the stale stench of death, the beating of the little boy. I wished I could flush the memories clear from my head.

"You know, if I were you, I wouldn't give him such a hard time when he comes back. None of us really know how far his patience can be stretched. If he wants something, he's gonna get it no matter what it takes."

"I don't trust your leader at all."

"Then I guess you won't trust me with your rations either, huh?" He stretched out his hand, and a shallow dish appeared on his palm. He slid this over to me. It stopped at my feet. "Here, eat it. It ain't good to starve yourself while you've got Kobun-poison in your blood."

I stared down at the dish, immobile.

The Skeleton burst into laughter. "Oh, sorry. Forgot you're chained to the wall. Silly me."

I clenched my fists, ignoring the twinges of pain accompanying the motion. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a spoon which he brought to my mouth. I turned my face to the side.

"Oh c'mon. It tastes good. I think."

I didn't answer. After a few more attempts, he sighed and pulled back his hand. I fought the urge to smirk at his frustration. I would not be fed by these criminals. I had more pride than that.

"Fine, have it your way. I'll leave this here." The Skeleton stepped back a few meters before pressing his hands together in a combination of gestures. Two stone walls emerged from the ground at my left and right, parallel to each other. A fourth wall, a metal gate, burst from below and rattled between the Skeleton and me. Then it slammed shut. The chains broke, freeing my numb arms from their rigid prison. Warm blood was rushing through them so quickly, it felt strange to move them, like they were somehow disconnected from my body. Dead and heavy.

"Whenever you decide to cooperate then we'll talk," he said from the other side of the gate. He shook his head, almost pityingly, and left.

Suddenly feeling woozy, I sank to the floor and leaned against rough stone, flinching when the cold surface pressed into my back. My legs were stretched before me, mottled with scratches and dirt. I had never noticed how spindly-looking they had become; my bony, purple knees looked even worse. The yukata I wore was nothing but shreds of cotton now, failing to provide the warmth I desperately wanted. The cold air was almost unbearable, but my head was burning and throbbing. Huddling into a corner seemed like a good idea, but my body had been reduced to a mass of aching bone and muscle. I would have to suffer the cold in passive anguish.

I rested my arms at my sides, too tired to move them. Ino's **_**yukiyanagi **_**bracelet had since withered, and all the delicate, white petals had crumbled and fallen off. All that remained on my wrist was a thin circlet of browning stems. It was only a day old, and already it was dying. I had been stuck in this world for weeks, months perhaps—so long that I felt myself slipping away a bit more everyday. In the beginning I had dreamed of escaping from the castle and its master, the beast whose name was Sasuke. The monster, the very one who had threatened to imprison me until my death, had a name, he had feelings. And he had changed somehow. He could have let me fend for myself and die in the confusion. But he had let me go. At that moment, running away during the ambush had felt so wrong, and I didn't know why.

More precisely, I didn't know anything. Why was it that as the days passed, I felt like I was forgetting things more and more? As I tried reclaiming snippets of my memory, others would slip by. In the end, the only friend whose face and name I remembered was Ino. But the most disconcerting thing was realizing how often Sasuke occupied my thoughts. Would it only be a matter of time until I forgot even him? Then what would I become? A person who knew no more than her own name?

I closed my eyes, trying in vain to remember, to forget, to discern anything of importance from what little I knew. It seemed as though Ino's voice was calling out to me.

__Remember the past, but think about the present. __

But how?

__And promise me you'll always look to the future.__

But I had no future. My own ignorance held me captive. And I was powerless to do anything about it...

The cold of the room gripped me suddenly, rousing me from my light sleep. Ice passed through my veins, and my skin erupted in goosebumps. Some time had passed after I fell asleep. I was still in the cell, alone. The dish and spoon remained where the Skeleton had last left them. My eyes landed on the rotting bracelet that still clung to my wrist. Enraged, I tore and flung it far to the other side of the cell.

* * *

><p>I woke again later to the sound of someone tapping the gate. Wiping my bleary eyes, I could make out a small figure peering in.<p>

"Hi," said a tiny voice. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw that it was a young girl, no older than six or seven at most. From her pale skin and dark hair to her pretty eyes and lips, she was probably the loveliest child I had ever seen. It appeared as though she were a doll, handcrafted to perfection.

"Hi," I breathed, uncertain of what I was seeing.

"Hi," she repeated. "Are you sleeping?"

"Not anymore." I moved into a more comfortable position. Ugh. My back was killing me. My neck, too. At least my headache was gone.

"Why are you in there?"

"I'd like to ask God the same thing."

The girl's face twisted in confusion. "Are you bored all by yourself?"

The question brought a smile to my face. I hadn't thought about boredom for a long time. I had felt many things since my time here, but boredom? "No, I'm okay."

She nodded. Then, in a timid voice—"I'm bored."

"Where are your parents? Your mama and papa?"

"I don't have a mama or papa. I have **_**oji-chan**_**. He used to play with me, but not a lot anymore. I'm lonely. Will you play with me?"

"I'd love to play with you, but I'm stuck in here. I can't get out."

"Oh."

"Why are __you __here? This isn't a place where a little girl like you should be." I winced at my own words. To the criminals lurking in these caves, I probably appeared to them as nothing more than a little girl too.

The child without hesitation. "I live here."

"What? With who?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder. "I have to go. I think someone's calling me."

I listened hard but couldn't hear a sound. Before I could speak, the girl dashed away and disappeared into one of the many dark passages.

* * *

><p>"Awake already, huh?" said the Skeleton, who came some time later. He had come with a bowl of—surprise—porridge and a spoon. The old bowl had been left untouched since the Skeleton's last visit. I didn't trust these masked freaks enough to feed me.<p>

I watched in silence as he slid the bowl and spoon through a small space beneath the gate. He waited for me to retrieve them, but when I merely stayed in place he sighed.

"I know what you're thinking. You want to escape, and all the while you're probably cursing at us because you don't know what else to do. And you plan on starving yourself to piss us off. But how likely is it that you'll escape if you're half-dead?"

Very unlikely. The logic behind it made sense, but I had ignored it out of the hope that I'd figure something out when necessary. It was an ill-conceived, naïve plan. Still, I chose not to dignify his question with a response.

"Are you usually this social?" said the Skeleton. He tried again a moment later, but in a more elevated, conversational tone: "Why yes, indeed. I do love steak. In fact, I like it medium-rare. Do you?"

I hated medium-rare.

The Skeleton carried on, as if I had given a reply. "Oh, __do __you? Well, I even like it raw. The blood brings out the gamey, __freshly-slaughtered __taste. I love it. My peers think I'm a psychopath. I don't exactly disagree with them. Do you?"

I didn't either. If it were possible, I think I hated him more now.

"Yep, yep. The weather is gorgeous down here. Nothing like the great indoors. So comfortable. Small. Compact... Cold... Gray... Boring. Same old, same old. Juuuust fucking great."

I remained still, eyes closed. His attempt at humor was pitiful. And I was not in the mood to speak with him.

"...Did you know I'm naked underneath my clothes?"

Silence. Moments later, I heard him grumble hotly beneath his breath before leaving.

* * *

><p>The little girl came back again the next day and then three days later, on the fifth day. (In the cell, I had no way of processing time other than counting how often I was brought food. I received three meals a day. So in total, fourteen meals equated to at least—five days.)<p>

She sat behind the gate, gripping the metal bars as she spoke about herself and whatever else held the attention of a young child. Her name was Sora. Her friend, oji-chan as she affectionately called him, had told her that her parents had been taken to the Kobun's Base when she was just a baby. News came around that both had died this year. For a kid, she didn't seem very bothered by these distressing facts. Then again, she had never met them, had never developed ties with them, and therefore, never had to suffer the pangs of loss.

Sora abruptly shifted the conversation to toys and then to candy. Now, she was asking whether I would eat the porridge brought by the Skeleton.

"No," I answered honestly. "Not ever again." I had tried eating it and had found comfort in its bland warmth. One day I had consumed too much, too quickly. I had had to empty my stomach in a stone pot placed in the corner of the room. The acrid stench of vomit and the sharp pangs in my stomach were too much to handle. Summoning chakra to my belly had only exacerbated the pain. I was still too weak.

"But aren't you hungry?"

Somehow, I was able to stifle an incoming growl from the pit of my stomach. __Mind over matter, mind over matter. __If I kept my breaths shallow, it helped a bit. "Not at all."

"Did you do something bad? Is that why you're in jail?"

"I thought I was doing something right for once in my life, even though I'm not sure what exactly I'm doing... Did you ever feel that way? You think you're doing something good, but then you also feel like it's bad. And then you get a little scared because...well, you're not sure what's going to happen to you."

Sora was quiet for a moment. "I get sad when oji-chan uses all his chakra on me. One time I saw him coughing a lot, and there was a lot of blood on his shirt. He takes medicine, but I don't think it's working. I thought maybe because he uses all his chakra on me, he isn't getting better. When I asked him to stop wasting his chakra, he got really mad and made me cry." She sniffled. "It was really scary."

Using chakra on her? What did that even mean?

"I don't like to make oji-chan mad. But I don't like to see him sick, too. When he gets really, __really __sick, he goes away for a long time and doesn't play with me. When he comes back, he kisses me but still doesn't play with me. And then he tells me to go to bed. And I get really sad. Maybe oji-chan doesn't like me anymore."

The girl was on the verge of tears. Hearing her little voice quiver just about broke my heart.

"Sora-chan, of course he likes you. I like you, too." It was true. I had grown rather fond of her. I wasn't sure if the Skeleton knew about this, but I didn't care. Speaking to another human being without a mask, without secrets...It was normal. Comforting.

The girl grinned, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. "Really, **_**onee-chan**_**?"

"Sora, why aren't you sleeping?" a deep voice called from behind us. At the sound of it, it felt as though my entrails had gone cold. Emerging from a passage was Aki, who was approaching us quickly. Sora turned, and she stared at him in something like rapt fascination. Did she not understand that he was a madman, a dangerous criminal? Was she not another one of his prisoners, brainwashed by his men into thinking that she actually belonged here? That this was her home? And why was she rising and running towards him?

"Sora-chan, don't go near him!" I warned, but it was too late. She was within an inch of his presence, and he was reaching towards her. I watched on helplessly from behind bars, waiting for the horrible murder I would soon witness. How quickly would it take for him to produce a knife from his pocket and run it clean across her throat? Or grasp her whole neck with those strong hands and break it?

But to my shock, the girl threw herself at his legs, for she only reached up to his thighs. And, with amazing passion, she embraced him. Her little arms couldn't have circled him all the way. She was so tiny, so defenseless against him. When she finally spoke, I could hardly believe my own ears.

"Oji-chan!" Sora pulled away to look up at him. "I missed you."

The man was unfazed by the warm welcome. "I told you to sleep."

"But—"

Aki held her by the arm, mumbled a few words, then let go. Within a second, the girl had disappeared. I couldn't even detect a trickle of chakra left. Gone. Without a trace.

"Why do you weep?"

I hadn't even noticed the tears rolling down my face. My vision already had gone blurry hours ago, and my skin numb from cold. All of the pain and fury that had been welling inside me finally burst. "What have you done to her?! She was just a child, you sick bastard!"

"You misunderstand."

"No, I understand perfectly. You're sick, you're evil! You can torture or starve me all you want. You can threaten to take my life. But I'll never give in to the likes of you!"

He stood at the gate, watching me. I was on my knees, bent forward with my head pressed to the ground. When I heard him step forth, I grabbed the nearest thing and threw it. Day-old porridge splattered all over the ground, and the bowl shattered into pieces. He easily stepped to the side and avoided the mess from behind the bars.

"When you decide to calm yourself down, enter the passage to the right. You pass."

To my amazement, he inserted a key into the gate, slid it open, and left. I watched the gate, waiting for a group of lumbering, masked cronies to appear and attack. Why else would that fiend unlock the gate if not to allow his men to get rid of me? Even in my own observation of myself, I had not been cooperative in the least. I had refused food and drink for two days now. I had ignored the Skeleton completely (though I suspected there to be more oafs like him that had come to observe me at timed intervals; I just have never seen them). I had thrown old __porridge__ at the leader, fully expecting him to respond in violence and wrath. But all he had done was unlock a gate and leave. After considering all of this, I was convinced that if he had wanted to kill me, he would have done it immediately after opening the gate. So what did he want?

It took more effort than I thought to get up and squeeze through the gate. More than once, I doubled over in pain and had to stop. A step forward done too quickly shot knives through my stomach and spine. The feeling so overwhelmed me that my breaths came out in short gasps. The evil taste of bile rose and sank over and over. Drums, it seemed, kept banging against my brain.

But by sheer will, I was able to make it to the end. I found myself at a closed door, through which I could hear some subdued voices. It occurred to me several times that I could very well be walking straight into a trap. Amid the incessant beating of the drums in my head, I could conjure images of fantastic torture devices and wicked-looking weapons. But I ignored my mind's final warning and pushed the door open anyway, fully unprepared for the sight waiting before me.

I entered a small, dimly lit room. A single bulb glowed yellow. There were makeshift hospital beds and IV drips and file cabinets. There were no windows, balloons or flowers. The stale air stank of antibacterial soap. And sitting in the cots were the Konoha nin; beside them, Aki.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Glossary<strong>**

****Hidenka: ****title given to the Royal Consort

****yukiyanagi: ****little white flowers (can't remember the literal translation, sorry. I'm not Ino. lol.)

****oji-chan: ****Uncle

****onee-chan:**** Sister

Okay. I'm aware that I was gone for six months. I'm reeeeally sorry about that. My excuses:

1. I got into a car accident shortly after I posted Chapter 12. Cars + dumb teen driver + poor me = accident = hospital visits = boredom and general agony

2. College apps. Just... don't procrastinate. And don't catch "Senioritis." Heed my warning, underclassmen. Heed my warning.

3. I rewrote the older chapters to make them sound less mediocre, but nothing dramatic has changed plot-wise! But trust me. It took a longgg time to finish.

Big thanks to all of my loyal supporters! Please continue leaving some kind feedback... they motivate me to work harder! And muchas gracias to my beta __**wingedmercury**__!


	14. Underworld

**XIV. Underworld**

Being in the room was like remembering a dream that I had forgotten. The four walls reflected a sickly, sallow color, like wax. The sharp scent of chemicals burned my nose as I inhaled. It upset my weak stomach which threatened to turn over with as much force as sea waves crashing into rocks. I felt even sicker seeing Tsunade and Gizou so close to Aki, so still. Had Aki captured them and brought them here? But no, that didn't make sense. Aki didn't belong here. How was it possible that Aki's Yuuyami organization connected to Konoha's underground sanctuary?

I turned to Aki, feeling hot venom swell through my veins. He met my stare with the blank gaze of his crow mask.

"This is your doing, isn't it? Capturing them?"

"Again, you misunderstand," he answered. "They are not prisoners but associates."

My lips moved but after a moment I realized I had not actually spoken. "What?" I finally said.

When Tsunade rose, Gizou followed. Aki was still. His hands rested in his lap, and he made no move to rise.

"He's telling the truth, Sakura," said Tsunade. She didn't look the least bit afraid or nervous. Her voice was steady. If Aki was controlling her, he was doing a good job of it.

"No," I shook my head, whispering. "No, that can't be true. Aki—he's evil. He threatened me. He's sick and twisted. He's a murderer!"

Aki looked at Gizou, who nodded his consent. Aki proceeded to speak. "It was by unanimous decision that we detain you for a number of days. It was a test to see where your loyalties lied. We monitored you as you ate and slept. We watched you struggle from cold and exhaustion. We had our men report back to us on your behavior. But you never spoke. You never gave anything away. You were not a spy for the tyrant. We knew you would serve us well."

"Us?" I repeated weakly.

"The last nin of Konoha, of the world perhaps, and Yuuyami. We work for the same cause. It was only recently that we decided to join ranks in an effort to remove the tyrant. But both parties have been preparing for a revolution for years now. Senju-san and her people want to liberate the country. My men and I want to liberate the world."

Tsunade reached to place a hand on my arm, but I moved away. A frown settled on her lips. "Even before we brought you to Konoha, we watched you interact with the prince. We three knew all along of the true identity of the 'beast.' We were never close enough to see you both, but we monitored your chakras for some time. We didn't understand how you managed to slip past the barrier without alarming the Kobun, but you did. We had to know how, and why, and where you came from. Once it became apparent that you were not sent by the tyrant to harm the prince, we brought you in."

"And you all tested on me like a...like a _lab rat_?"

"We would prefer not to call it that," said Gizou, coughing once in between, "but it was a necessary evil."

I clenched my fists and felt my broken nails dig into my palms. "So now you all know I'm just an innocent person with no knowledge of this war. I'm not part of any conspiracy. I am not a spy. I am not an assassin sent to kill the man you once called a beast and now call your prince. If you all were so concerned about him, why didn't any of you bother to free him? Why did you watch him suffer for years? Why didn't you help sooner?" I was aware of my voice growing louder, but I didn't care. None of them tried stopping me. "And now it's too late. He let me go when dozens of Kobun were closing in on us, even when he had little chakra to spare. He could be dead!"

Tsunade spoke gently after a beat of silence. "Then are you giving up?"

I merely looked at her, too tired to question her.

"I know you are stronger than this. Your will to survive and protect the prince is stronger than what we have ever seen. Would you have held fast to his memory for so long if you had not truly believed that he was still alive?"

I ignored her question. "You probably sensed his unique chakra signature even when he was turned. It was probably the same as it had always been. You knew who he was all this time." I could feel the sting of my words affect them in the slouch of their shoulders, and the way Tsunade's eyes fell to the floor. This reaction compelled me to continue speaking with more vigor than before. "But all you did was hide!"

"Please do not mistake our decisions for indolence, Miss," said Gizou, voice soft and kind. Amazingly, it was clearer than it had ever been before, free from wheezes and hacking coughs. "We did what was best for the country. Sasuke Denka was placed in a temporary asylum immediately after he was spotted terrorizing Konoha. I recognized his chakra signature, and I realized that he was under a foreign influence. He was not in his right mind, and he was unable to stop himself from hurting others.

"At the same time that the prince was being pursued by our men, the palace was under siege. A massive fire had started in one of the wings. Residents of the palace were found dead. The whole kingdom was in chaos. We had to prevent Sasuke Denka from killing any more innocents. Under my command, a barrier was created to hold him in until we could establish order at the palace.

"But I had largely underestimated the strength of the tyrant and his men. As the night wore on, more of our numbers fell to the enemy. By daybreak, there were only thirty of us ninja left. Because most of our homes had been destroyed, we were forced to retreat underground. During that time, the Kobun found Sasuke Denka and built a second stronger barrier, a barrier that would surely set off the Kobun's alarms at the slightest disturbance. It would have given our location away and led them straight to us. And once they had found us, they would have killed all of us. They might have killed Sasuke Denka as well.

"As we organized our ranks and studied the enemy, we monitored our prince. We soon came across Yuuyami, a small band of survivors from Rain Country that had escaped the clutches of our common enemy. The tyrant had extended his dominion far beyond Fire Country, shutting down whole villages and subjugating the weak. Yuuyami shared much of our ideals, and before long we consolidated our groups. Finally, after six years, we were ready to initiate our plans...until you came. We did not know how you slipped through the barrier without alerting the Kobun. You broke into the castle, and the Kobun never came for you. Initially I had assumed that you were sent by the tyrant to finish Sasuke Denka, but when his chakra signature did not disappear, I was baffled. For the safety of our prince, we agreed to introduce you to our society and determine what to do with you. If you were in support of our cause, we would have had you join us. And if you were to deny us, we would have—" The old man struggled to find the right words. "Well, we would have dealt with you differently."

By this time around I caught the implication quickly, a nice little euphemism for _killing me off_ had I turned out to be a dissenter. But I had proven my worth. I had passed their test and was among them now. And though I tried holding onto the frustration and resentment that I held against them all, I could not stay angry. I felt those feelings subside in my heart the longer I considered Gizou's explanation. So it was true that Konoha and Yuuyami were one. They shared the same facilities underground. They agreed to observe and lock me up like some kind of animal. They worked together for the same goal, no matter the sacrifices.

I had but one question left.

"Aki."

"Yes," replied the man.

"Did you mean what you said in the cell? About the building and the tool?" _You don't actually want to kill Sasuke do you?_

Tsunade and Gizou looked puzzled, but Aki understood me immediately.

"No. I did not."

* * *

><p>Almost everyone underground knew of me. The feeling of being recognized by so many strangers was unsettling. I felt their eyes following me. No one tried to harm me, but no one tried to convince me that I was among friends either. I had once thought that a lot of company was better than none at all, but I soon learned how naïve I had been. Though many people came to see me every day, I still felt miserably alone. The odd thing was accepting the fact that I had felt more at peace in the castle with only Sasuke than here with these strange men and women.<p>

One of them had stood before me, holding a glowing hand to my temple. The dull ache that had settled in my head for days had diminished by the second. Save for the person's thin arms and slim waist, I would not have guessed the medic's sex beneath the dark, bulky clothes and gear. Her hair was clipped close to her head. She wore the wooden face of a cat and never spoke, only made small gestures to instruct me to sit down, lie down, breathe deeply, or open my mouth. Her ministrations were professional, swift and skilled, and she never stayed longer than five minutes every session. Over the course of five days, she had healed bruises, cuts and aches. She had fed me a bitter syrup to alleviate the pains in my stomach. She had also restored my vision to full clarity by accelerating the slow, natural process of chakra regeneration in my eyes. My limbs felt stronger. The drumming in my head eventually stopped.

All in all, she was a wonderful medic, but she was a horrible companion. When I spoke about anything unrelated to my physical condition, she made no gesture of acknowledgment. It was painfully obvious that her duty was to heal the sick girl, not to befriend her. After the fifth day of overseeing me, the Cat slunk out of the room and never returned.

The one in charge of bringing me my meals remained the same, much to my chagrin. The Skeleton was just as garrulous and crude as ever before, and he made no effort to control himself in my presence. Instead of enjoying his energy, I just felt suffocated. And it wasn't like he was behaving that way to make me feel any better. He only did it to bug me.

"Hungry yet, my little mouse?"

He entered carrying a tray. Today was fish, rice, and pickled radish. It was nice to see my standard meal of gray slop upgrade now that I was "officially" integrated into the underground society. The Skeleton chuckled when he saw me hungrily eyeing the food.

"You know, I thought you were pretty annoying when you first came here," he said, probably aware that I reciprocated the sentiment just as much, "but I've come to like you. You've got fire in you. Jashin-sama would love to have a taste of that fire."

I made a face. He chuckled again. As he placed the tray on the bed, he sat down at the far edge, opposite of me. Suddenly nervous of our closeness, I froze and made no move to retrieve the tray. But the Skeleton shook his head as sign of assurance.

"Look, I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm not allowed to, and even if I was, I don't have a reason to do anything. Did I hurt you once when you were stuck in that drafty shit hole? All I did was bring you your food. You know that. So c'mon. Eat your damn food. Go on."

Slowly, my fingers found the tray and pulled it to me. I was in the middle of picking up the chopsticks when I saw that the Skeleton had not budged.

"Aren't you going to leave?"

He gave a low whistle. "You really hate me, don't you? Can't wait to get rid of me every chance you get. I'm not leaving, nope, not this time. You didn't eat some of your other meals. I've been ordered to make sure you finish them, even if it takes us hours."

"What's the big deal?" I huffed. "If I don't eat, the food can be given to someone else who wants seconds. It doesn't have to be wasted on me." I almost cracked a smile when I recalled throwing a bowl of mush at Aki.

"Yeah, but you have to eat to regain your strength. And down here, we have a strict No-Waste Policy. Each guy is issued a certain number of meals per day. Rations, okay? The hunters spend a lot of time gathering resources. The cooks spend a lot of time, well, cooking. And handsome bastards like _me_ spend a lot of time bringing ungrateful little shits like _you_ your meals. There is no such thing as wasting _anything_ here. You're lucky that we're being so lenient with you. You could be starving above ground, with nothing to eat but the crumbs left behind by those Kobun-douche bags. So shut up and eat."

I thought about the scrawny little boy who had been nearly killed for stealing bread. Even as he had cried for mercy, his dirty hands had reached for the flattened, soiled bread beneath the men's boots. My cheeks warmed in shame.

"Look," sighed the Skeleton, "do I have to scare you into submission? I wasn't lying when I said that I was buck naked beneath my cloak." His fingers flew to the buttons of his collar.

"Okay, okay! Stop that! I'll eat. Just—just don't do that!"

With the chopsticks I quickly brought some rice to my mouth. The thought of seeing that fiend naked repulsed me. For all I knew, he was a middle-aged man with a layer of flab for a stomach, a pock-marked and sweaty face, and hairy body. And judging by his perverse nature and nasal, grating voice, I was all the more inclined to believe my assumptions.

Despite my irritation, I relished the taste of my meal. The fish was freshly fried and salted. The radish was spiced and fermented just right. The rice was hot. Before I knew it, I had finished the entire thing, the glass of water included. It was only after I had finished that I noticed the Skeleton still watching me, keeping silent for the longest time I had never thought possible. But he still wasn't leaving.

"All done, Mouse?"

I held in a groan. The nickname was not at all cute or endearing. "What do you want now?"

"I just want to talk, is all. Let's have a little chat." He cracked his neck, left and right.

"Don't you have other duties to fulfill now that this one is done?"

"It's a scientifical fact that isolating yourself for a long time makes you become a raving sociopath. Or a suicidal freak."

I scoffed. "You mean scientific? And that's _not_ a proven fact."

"Then why do you insist on keeping to yourself all the time, huh? It ain't good for ya."

"It's not by my decision that I'm stuck here in the first place!" Frustrated, I tossed the chopsticks onto the bed and pushed away the tray. "No matter where I go, everyone claims to know me. They're telling me to listen to them, to believe and help them, but how can I do that when I don't know them? The one friend that I thought I had was killed before my eyes by your stupid leader. I have no one!" I felt hot tears prickle in the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away. I was not going to cry in front of this guy.

"What friend are you talking about?" He sounded intrigued.

"Does it matter?" I sighed. I just wanted him to leave.

"What friend?" he repeated.

"It was just a little girl, okay? She came to my cell sometimes...until Aki killed her."

"What are you talking about?" the Skeleton said. "There's no little girl living here. And if there was, one of us would have seen her while we monitored you. And Aki would never kill children. It just ain't something he would do."

"Look, I'm just telling you what I saw. If you don't believe me, I don't care."

"And I'm telling you that no children roam these halls. The last one died two years ago, maybe three. They're unfit to survive the conditions underground. They're too young, weak, hungry. Their chakras could hardly sustain them during the winters. Sometimes it gets so bad that even some of _us_ start dying off. Simply put, there ain't no children here at all. Period."

My blood ran cold. Something about his voice convinced me that he wasn't lying. He was serious. If there hadn't been any children here, then who was that girl named Sora? Why hadn't she been seen by any of the men on duty? And why had her uncle killed her? I _know_ I hadn't hallucinated the whole ordeal because Aki had seen and spoken to her himself. And right before he had killed her, she had wrapped her little arms around him with so much love that it had to be real. It seemed like this was one thing that the rest of the organization was privy to. It had to be something important. Why else would Aki get rid of his niece so quickly the minute he realized I had seen her? Should the occasion arise, I would certainly question him about the matter. But for now, I had to get rid of the Skeleton.

Luckily, not much later he said that he had to leave and would come again in the evening to bring dinner. In the meantime, he continued, a few people would be visiting me, and it would be in my best interest to behave. He shut the door behind him with a knowing chuckle.

Within minutes, the door slammed open to reveal a blond boy who practically threw himself at me. He pulled me into a crushing hug, and before I could even register who he was, he spoke.

"Sakura-chaaaaan!" he wailed. He squeezed tighter. "I missed you so much! I never agreed to their crazy plans, I'm tellin' you! I defended you! I tried, I did. But they kept telling me you agreed to go back to the castle and that...that monster! I thought I had lost you forever. I'm so glad you survived and got away. The minute they told me you had escaped him, I tried to come see you, but they wouldn't let me!"

Escaped? I had explicitly told the three nin that Sasuke had let me go of his own accord. Those three were much too sharp to have missed that detail. Then...had they deliberately lied to this boy? Did he even know that his long lost friend, Sasuke, was the monster?

"Um, hello," I said to the boy, who immediately fell silent to listen to me. "I can't breathe."

He let go quickly and proceeded to apologize profusely. "I'm such an idiot, Sakura-chan! After all you had gone through, how could I forget your horrible condition?"

Another voice came from behind: "That's one right thing you have said all day, Naruto-kun. You really are an idiot."

Naruto spun on his heels, apparently very offended by the mild barb, and growled, "Shut up, you pale, monotone freak! At least I bother to put on some clothes."

The other boy looked down to scan his wardrobe. When he looked back up, his face was blank. "I do not understand. Every morning I make sure that I am fully dressed."

Naruto slapped his forehead and groaned. "No wonder you have no friends, Sai."

Sai ignored him to look at me. "I believe we have met once before, so I do not think that introductions are necessary. It has come to my attention that you are alone and that you are very 'emotionally unstable,' at least according to one of our superiors. He assigned us the task of keeping you company every afternoon and preventing you from becoming a 'raving sociopath who plays with imaginary friends.'"

I shook my head in disgust. The Skeleton was such an idiot.

"And more importantly, I was told that Naruto-kun and I have 'some pent-up frustration' inside us. Our superior told us that it was a shame that so many young men our age have become subject to this growing syndrome because of the war. He also said that you would be happy to offer some immediate relief. I was not aware that I was afflicted by any ailment, but if our superior says that it is a dire problem, then I must see to it that it is healed as soon as possible. I hope you understand when I ask for some aid—"

All the while that Sai had been talking, Naruto had grown redder and redder until he promptly clapped a hand over the boy's mouth. Sai appeared confused but stopped speaking. For the remainder of the afternoon, as I rested on the bed I was "entertained" by the two boys. In my current state of mild embarrassment and irritation, the Skeleton seemed synonymous with the evil tyrant Hisao. Perhaps they were the same person. If that was true, I decided that I would not be surprised at all.

* * *

><p>By the end of the week, I was no longer the buzz of the community. Evidently, these people had more important things to worry about, like provisions and warmth and safety. But mostly, they were preparing for the revolution. I had gathered from scattered conversations that the event would not take place for another couple weeks, perhaps a month. No one knew when it would happen, but they felt that it was approaching soon.<p>

I was given the task of delivering notes. Aki had once warned me that the halls were so identical and the caves so extensive that I would get lost easily. Interestingly enough, I was able to navigate them with ease by the seventh day. People wrote messages to each other, but much of the community did not have time to personally deliver the notes. On more than one occasion a grateful "client" would reward me with a trinket or a snack for my troubles. None of them had any money to give, so they expressed their thanks with commodities. Among themselves, they traded scarves for gloves, lotion for meat, cigarettes for pocket knives. Sometimes a hunter would exchange an extra portion of his daily spoils for a medic's healing touch. Everyone was honest and generous, and the system worked well. Now if only a few of them bothered to smile...!

It was during the wee hours of the morning (or so I assumed, if the quiet of the halls and the shut doors were any indication) when I startled awake from another bad dream. Hisao was in it again, nothing but his red eyes visible in the darkness. We were at the little pond near the castle, rain pouring down on us, just like before. And again, it all ended with the lightning dagger protruding from my stomach.

I rose from bed, my hand automatically moving to touch where I had been stabbed, only to feel dry skin and clothes. No blood. Though I knew it had only been a dream, relief only came after I felt for the puncture that did not exist.

Suddenly, there was a flare of warmth. I felt it shudder for a moment and then stabilize. It was faint, barely perceptible, but I recognized it as the special presence of someone who I had thought was lost forever. And I knew I had to follow it.

I slipped out of the room, concentrating on finding the warmth. I was no longer afraid of the darkness or the shadows that moved with me. Every few doors I stopped to examine the strength of the warmth. If it weakened, I headed a different direction. If it strengthened, I continued on. One door in the distance had been left ajar, a pale blue light glowing through the space. And I heard voices. The closer I approached the door, the more I could make out of the quiet conversation.

"Stay still."

"Oji-chan!"

"Quiet. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior from you."

"I don't wanna do this anymore, oji-chan." There was a small sob.

"This will go by faster if you behave. Oji-chan is tired. Don't make it harder for him."

"But I love oji-chan. I don't need chakra, I don't need toys too. I just wanna play with you!"

I knew now that it was Sora and Aki. There was no mistaking it. I had recognized Sora's chakra but had only needed to hear her voice to be sure. But how was she still alive? Hadn't Aki killed her? I moved closer to the door, careful not to lean against it and alert them of my presence.

"Sora, you know that this is important." He coughed.

"Don't you love me, oji-chan? You don't love me anymore, oji-chan! That's why you don't ever wanna play with me!"

"Sora." Aki was growing impatient.

The girl cried, "My mama and papa never played with me because they're dead! I just wish you would let me see them. I don't like it here anymore! I hate it! I wanna see my mama and papa—"

Sora grew quiet.

Then the door swung open, revealing Aki in his usual black clothes and crow mask. The room behind him was empty.

"What did you see?" he demanded coolly. He did not have to yell to indicate his displeasure.

"N-nothing," I answered honestly, grimacing at the slight tremor in my voice.

"What," he began, more slowly this time, "did you see?"

"I didn't see anything."

"That is correct. You saw and heard nothing if you know what is best for you. Good night."

The door was shut with a soft click. I did not feel Sora's chakra for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p>Hi, guys. I won't be surprised if you all forgot me and the plot by now. I've been gone for five months so I don't blame you. Everything's so hectic. And I totally forgot to consult my amazing beta <em><strong>wingedmercury<strong>_. (Oops.)

I realize now that I have to make time to write, not expect the perfect moment to present itself to me. But I promise you that I will finish this story even if it kills me. (Maybe.)

Thank you for your support, everyone who's stuck by me for two long years!

I want some honest feedback from you guys. So here's a poll concerning the speed of my story. Is the pacing of the plot...?

A. Too slow. Needs to pick up with the action/romance.

B. Too fast. Needs to develop characters, background, story in more detail.

C. Just right. Nothing needs to be changed because it's as good as it'll ever get.

**NOTICE** as of **August 1, 2013**: I have changed my old pen name of **twinkletoast** to **cion** due to security issues. I apologize in advance for any inconvenience this change may cause.

_Love,_

_-cion_


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